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THE   HEART   OP   OAK   BOOKS 


A  COLLECTION  OF  TRADITIONAL  EHYMES  AND  STORIES  FOR  CHILDREN, 

AND   OF  MASTERPIECES   OF   POETRY  AND   PROSE    FOR   USE   AT 

HOME  AND  AT  SCHOOL,  CHOSEN  WITH  SPECIAL  REFERENCE 

TO  THE  CULTIV^ATION  OF  THE  IMAGINATION  AND  THE 

DEVELOPMENT  OF  A  TASTE  FOR  GOOD  READING 


In  .Seben  Uolumes 
Volume  V 


Frontispiece. 


SIR  GALAHAD. 

After  the  picture  by  G.  F.  Watts. 


THE 


HEART   OF   OAK   BOOKS 


EDITED  BY 

CHARLES  ELIOT  NORTON 


riftb  Book 


REVISED  EDJT'CJ' 
ILLUSTRATED 


BOSTON,  U.S.A. 

D.   C.  HEATH  &  CO.,   PUBLISHERS 

1908 


COPYBIGIIT,   1895  AND   1903, 

By  CHARLES  ELIOT  NORTON. 


>::;"r  ;•;:.:•:: 


•  •  •* "  • 

•  ••     * 

'*•  • "  •  •*« 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 


In  the  preparation  of  the  Heart  of  Oak  Books  I  have 
received  assistance  of  various  sorts  from  various  persons,  to 
all  of  whom  I  offer  my  thanks.  I  regret  that  I  am  not 
allowed  to  mention  by  name  one  without  whose  help  the 
Books  would  not  have  been  made,  and  to  whose  hand  most 
of  the  Notes  are  due. 

The  accuracy  of  the  text  of  the  pieces  of  which  the  volumes 
are  composed  has  been  secured  by  the  painstaking  and  schol- 
arly labor  of  Mr.  George  H.  Browne  of  Cambridge,  Mass. 

C.  E.  NORTON. 


The  selections  from  Longfellow,  Lowell,  Hawthorne,  Whit- 
tier,  and  Emerson  in  these  books  are  used  by  permission  of 
the  publishers  of  the  works  of  these  authors,  Houghton, 
Mifflin,  &  Co.,  and  by  special  agreement  with  them. 


D.   C.   HEATH  &  CO. 


562r)r>l 


PREFACE. 


A  TASTE  for  good  reading  is  an  acquisition  the  worth  of 
which  is  hardly  to  be  overestimated ;  and  yet  a  majority  of 
children,  even  of  those  favored  by  circumstance,  grow  up 
without  it.  This  defect  is  due  partly  to  the  fault  or  ignorance 
of  parents  and  teachers ;  partly,  also,  to  the  want,  in  many 
cases,  of  the  proper  means  of  cultivation.  For  this  taste,  like 
most  others,  is  usually  not  so  much  a  gift  of  nature  as  a 
product  of  cultivation.  A  wide  difference  exists,  indeed,  in 
children  in  respect  to  their  natural  inclination  for  reading, 
but  there  are  few  in  whom  it  cannot  be  more  or  less  developed 
by  careful  and  judicious  training. 

This  training  should  begin  very  early.  Even  before  the 
child  has  learned  the  alphabet,  his  mother's  lullaby  or  his 
nurse's  song  may  have  begun  the  attuning  of  his  ear  to  the 
melodies  of  verse,  and  the  quickening  of  his  mind  with  pleas- 
ant fancies.  As  he  grows  older,  his  first  reading  should  be. 
made  attractive  to  him  by  its  ease  and  entertainment. 

The  reading  lesson  should  never  be  hard  or  dull;   nor 

should  it  be  made  the  occasion  for  instruction  in  any  specific 

branch  of  knowledge.    The  essential  thing  is  that  in  beginning 

to  learn  to  read  the  child  should  like  what  he  reads  or  hears 

read,  and  that  the  matter  should  be  of  a  sort  to  fix  itself  in 

his  mind  without  wearisome  effort.    He  should  be  led  on  by 

pleasure  from  step  to  step. 

vii 


Vlll  PBEFACE. 

His  very  first  reading  should  mainly  consist  in  what  may 
cultivate  his  ear  for  the  music  of  verse,  and  may  rouse  his 
fancy.  And  to  this  end  nothing  is  better  than  the  rhymes  and 
jingles  which  have  sung  themselves,  generation  after  genera^ 
tion,  in  the  nursery  or  on  the  playground.  "  Mother  Goose  " 
is  the  best  primer.  No  matter  if  the  rhymes  be  nonsense 
verses ;  many  a  poet  might  learn  the  lesson  of  good  versifica- 
tion from  them,  and  the  child  in  repeating  them  is  acquiring 
the  accent  of  emphasis  and  of  rhythmical  form.  Moreover, 
the  mere  art  of  reading  is  the  more  readily  learned,  if  the 
words  first  presented  to  the  eye  of  the  child  are  those  which 
are  already  familiar  to  his  ear. 

The  next  step  is  easy,  to  the  short  stories  which  have  been 
told  since  the  world  was  young ;  old  fables  in  which  the  teach- 
ings of  long  experience  are  embodied,  legends,  fairy  tales, 
which  form  the  traditional  common  stock  of  the  fancies  and 
sentiment  of  the  race. 

These  naturally  serve  as  the  gate  of  entrance  into  the  wide 
open  fields  of  literature,  especially  into  those  of  poetry. 
Poetry  is  one  of  the  most  efficient  means  of  education  of  the 
moral  sentiment,  as  well  as  of  the  intelligence.  It  is  the 
source  of  the  best  culture.  A  man  may  know  all  science  and 
yet  remain  uneducated.  But  let  him  truly  possess  himself 
of  the  work  of  any  one  of  the  great  poets,  and  no  matter  what 
else  he  may  fail  to  know,  he  is  not  without  education. 

The  field  of  good  literature  is  so  vast  that  there  is  some- 
thing in  it  for  every  intelligence.  But  the  field  of  bad  litera- 
ture is  not  less  broad,  and  is  likely  to  be  preferred  by  the 
common,  uncultivated  taste.  To  make  good  reading  more 
attractive  than  bad,  to  give  right  direction  to  the  choice,  the 
growing  intelligence  of  the  child  should  be  nourished  with 


PREFACE.  IX 

selected  portions  of  the  best  literature,  the  virtue  of  which 
has  been  approved  by  long  consent.  These  selections,  besides 
merit  in  point  of  literary  form,  should  possess  as  general 
human  interest  as  possible,  and  should  be  specially  chosen 
with  reference  to  the  culture  of  the  imagination. 

The  imagination  is  the  supreme  intellectual  faculty,  and 
yet  it  is  of  all  the  one  which  receives  least  attention  in  our 
common  systems  of  education.  The  reason  is  not  far  to  seek. 
The  imagination  is  of  all  the  faculties  the  most  difficult  to 
control,  it  is  the  most  elusive  of  all,  the  most  far-reaching 
in  its  relations,  the  rarest  in  its  full  power.  But  upon  its 
healthy  development  depend  not  only  the  sound  exercise  of 
the  faculties  of  observation  and  judgment,  but  also  the  com- 
mand of  the  reason,  the  control  of  the  will,  and  the  quicken- 
ing and  growth  of  the  moral  sympathies.  The  means  for  its 
culture  which  good  reading  affords  is  the  most  generally  avail- 
able and  one  of  the  most  efficient. 

To  provide  this  means  is  the  chief  end  of  the  Heart  of 
Oak  series  of  Keading  Books.  The  selections  which  it  con- 
tains form  a  body  of  reading,  adapted  to  the  progressive 
needs  of  childhood  and  youth,  chosen  from  the  masterpieces 
of  the  literature  of  the  English-speaking  race.  For  the  most 
part  they  are  pieces  already  familiar  and  long  accepted  as 
among  the  best,  wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken. 
The  youth  who  shall  become  acquainted  with  the  contents  of 
these  volumes  will  share  in  the  common  stock  of  the  intel- 
lectual life  of  the  race  to  which  he  belongs;  and  will  have 
the  door  opened  to  him  of  all  the  vast  and  noble  resources 
of  that  life. 

The  books  are  meant  alike  for  the  family  and  the  school. 
The  teacher  who  may  use  them  in  the  schoolroom  will  find  in 


X  PREFACE. 

them  a  variety  large  enough,  for  the  different  capacities  and 
interests  of  his  pupils,  and  will  find  nothing  in  them  but  what 
may  be  of  service  to  himself  also.  Every  competent  teacher 
will  already  be  possessed  of  much  which  they  contain ;  but 
the  worth  of  the  masterpieces  of  any  art  increases  with  use 
and  familiarity  of  association.  They  grow  fresher  by  custom ; 
and  the  love  of  them  deepens  in  proportion  to  the  time  we 
have  known  them,  and  to  the  memories  with  which  they  have 
become  invested. 

In  the  use  of  these  books  in  the  education  of  children,  it 
is  desirable  that  much  of  the  poetry  which  they  contain  should 
be  committed  to  memory.  To  learn  by  heart  the  best  poems 
is  one  of  the  best  parts  of  the  school  education  of  the  child. 
But  it  must  be  learning  by  heart;  that  is,  not  merely  by  rote 
as  a  task,  but  by  heart  as  a  pleasure.  The  exercise,  however 
difficult  at  first,  becomes  easy  with  continual  practice.  At 
first  the  teacher  must  guard  against  exacting  too  much ;  weari- 
ness quickly  leads  to  disgust ;  and  the  young  scholar  should 
be  helped  to  find  delight  in  work  itself. 

It  will  be  plain  to  every  teacher,  after  brief  inspection,  that 
these  books  differ  widely  from  common  School  Keaders.  Their 
object  is  largely  different.  They  are,  in  brief,  meant  not  only 
as  manuals  for  learning  to  read,  but  as  helps  to  the  cultivation 
of  the  taste,  and  to  the  healthy  development  of  the  imagina- 
tion of  those  who  use  them,  and  thus  to  the  formation  and 
invigoration  of  the  best  elements  of  character. 

C.  B.  N. 


TABLE   OF  CONTENTS. 
Book  V. 

PAGE 

The  Whistle Benjamin  Franklin  1 

Incidents  in  the  Early  Life  of  Thomas  Holcroft. . .  Thomas  Holcroft  2 

Yussouf James  Russell  Lowell  7 

The  Story  of  Sinbad  the  Sailor,  Arabian  Nights Jonathan  Scott  8 

The  Death  of  King  Arthur Sir  Thomas  Malory  64 

The  Passing  of  Arthur Alfred^  Lord  Tennyson  68 

Sir  Galahad Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson  78 

Vanity  Fair John  Bunyan  81 

Will  you  buy  any  Tape  ? William  Shakespeare  92 

The  Death  of  Caesar,  from  Plutarch's  Life Sir  Thomas  North  92 

Sir  Patrick  Spens 104 

Chevy  Chase 109 

Bewick  and  Grahame 118 

Scots,  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled Robert  Burns  V2'l 

Chapters  from  Tales  of  a  Grandfather Sir  Walter  Scott 

The  Story  of  Sir  William  Wallace 128 

The  Rise  of  Robert  the  Bruce 143 

The  Exploits  of  Douglas  and  of  Randolph 167 

The  Battle  of  Bannockburn 181 

The  Exploits  of  Edward  Bruce,  of  Douglas  and  Randolph,  and 

the  Death  of  Robert  Bruce 190 

AUin  a  Dale 205 

You  are  Old,  Eather  William Lewis  Carroll  209 

Youth  and  Age William  Shakespeare  210 

The  Ballad  of  East  and  West Rudyard  Kipling  211 

Incident  of  the  French  Camp Robert  Browning  216 

Hero  and  Leander Charles  Tennyson  Turner  218 

.  xi 


xii  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

PAOK 

Lord  Ullin's  Daughter Tliomas  Campbell  218 

How  they  brought  the  Good  News  from  Ghent  to  Aix 

Robert  Browning  220 
The  Landing  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  in  New  England 

Felicia  Browne  Hemans  223 

The  Battle  of  Trafalgar  and  the  Death  of  Nelson. .  .Bobert  Southey  224 

Home  Thoughts  from  the  Sea Bobert  Browning  244 

Columbus Arthur  Hugh  Clough  245 

Helvellyn Sir  Walter  Scott  246 

Jaffar Leigh  Hunt  248 

Autobiography Benjamin  Franklin 

Beginning  Life  in  Philadelphia 249 

The  Defeat  of  General  Braddock ■ 263 

The  Diverting  History  of  John  Gilpin William  Cowper  269 

The  Sailor's  Consolation Charles  Dibdin  278 

Abou  Ben  Adhem Leigh  Hunt  279 

The  Glory  of  the  English  Tongue Bichard,  Lord  Houghton  280 

Where  lies  the  Land  ? Arthur  Hugh  Clough  281 

Christmas Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson  282 

The  Kitten  and  Falling  Leaves William  Wordsworth  283 

A  Pilgrim • John  Bunyan  284 

The  Little  Black  Boy William  Blake  285 

The  Tiger William  Blake  287 

The  Fly • William  Oldys  288 

The  Dog  and  the  Water-Lily William  Cowper  288 

To  a  Water-Fowl William  Cullen  Bryant  290 

The  Last  Leaf Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  291 

"  As  an  Oak  whose  Leaf  fadeth  " Edward  Fitzgerald  293 

"  When  Sir  W;alter  Scott  lay  dying  " Edward  Fitzgerald  293 

Concord  Hymn Balph  Waldo  Emerson  294 


Notes 296 

Index  op  Wkitbks 301 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 
Book  V. 

FACING  PAGE 

Sir  Galahad G.  F.   Watts.     Frontispiece 

"  The  serpent  came  to  the  foot  of  the  tree  " Ernest  Foshery  28 

"As  soon  as  I  entered  the  cavern  I  lost  all  light".  .Ernest  Fosbei-y  50 

"The  judge's  name  was  Lord  Hategood^' Fred  Barnard  86 

"The  Strong  Castle  of  Dunottar  " From  a  photograph  134 

The  Castle  of  Edinburgh From  a  photograph  172 

"  A  strong  Castle  near  Linlithgow  " From  a  photograph  176 

"  You  are  old,  father  William  " Sir  John  I'enniel  2':8 

"  You  are  old,  father  William  " ,...Sir  John  Tenniel  210 

The  Battle  of  Trafalgar W.  C.  StandfieJd  232 

View  on  Third  Street  from  Spruce  Street,  Philadelphia 

From  old  engraving  256 

The  Monument  at  Concord» From  a  photograph  294 


xiii 


THE 

HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS. 


FIFTH   book; 

THE  WHISTLE. 

Benjamin  FranJcUn. 

When  I  was  a  child  of  seven  years  old,  my  friends,  on  a 
holiday,  filled  my  pocket  with  coppers.  I  went  directly  to  a 
shop  where  they  sold  toys  for  children,  and  being  charmed 
with  the  sound  of  a  whistle,  that  I  met  by  the  way  in  the 
hands  of  another  boy,  I  voluntarily  offered  and  gave  all  my 
money  for  one.  I  then  came  home,  and  went  whistling  all 
over  the  house,  much  pleased  with  my  ivJiistle,  but  disturbing 
all  the  family.  My  brothers,  and  sisters  and  cousins,  under- 
standing the  bargain  I  had  made,  told  me  I  had  given  four 
times  as  much  for  it  as  it  was  worth ;  put  me  in  mind  what 
good  things  I  might  have  bought  with  the  rest  of  the  money ; 
and  laughed  at  me  so  much  for  my  folly,  that  I  cried  with 
vexation;  and  the  reflection  gave  me  more  chagrin  thali  the 
whistle  gave  me  pleasure. 

This,  however,  was  afterwards  of  use  to  me,  the  impression 
continuing  in  my  mind ;  so  that  often,  when  I  was  tempted 
to  buy  some  unnecessary  thing,  I  said  to  myself,  DonH  give  too 
much  f 07'  the  whistle;  and  I  saved  my  money. 

As  I  grew  up,  came  into  the  world,  and  observed  the  actions 
of  men,  I  thought  I  met  with  many,  very  many,  who  gave  too 
much  for  the  whistle. 

X 


2     INCIBEST^  TN  EARLY  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  IIOLCEOFT, 


INCIDENTS  IN  THE  EARLY  LIFE  OF  THOMAS 
HOLCllOFT. 

Ft^om  the  "  Memoirs  of  Thomas  Holcroft." 

I  WAS  born  in  London,  in  Orange  Court,  Leicester  Fields,  on 
the  10th  day  of  December,  1745,  old  style. 

Most  persons,  I  believe,  retain  through  life  a  few  strong 
impressions  of  very  early  childhood.  I  have  a  recollection  of 
being  played  with  by  my  parents,  when  very  young,  and  of  the 
extreme  pleasure  it  gave  me.  On  another  occasion,  as  I  and 
one  or  two  of  my  brothers  or  sisters  were  playing  in  the  court, 
and  kneeling  and  peeping  down  a  cellar  window,  \vhere  there 
were  some  fowls,  a  shutter  that  belonged  to  the  window,  and 
was  fastened  up,  by  some  means  or  other  got  loose,  and  entirely 
cut  off  one  side  of  my  sister  Anne's  thumb ;  — a  disaster  never 
afterwards  to  be  forgotten.  My  father  one  day  whipped  me 
very  severely  for  crying  to  go  to  a  school  in  the  neighborhood, 
where  children  were  sent  rather  to  keep  them  out  of  the  way, 
than  to  learn  anything.  He  afterwards  ordered  an  apprentice 
he  had  to  take  me  to  school.  This  apprentice  was  an  exceed- 
ingly hard-featured  youth,  with  thick  lips,  wide  mouth,  broad 
nose,  and  his  face  very  much  marked  with  the  small-pox,  but 
very  kind  and  good-tempered.  I  perfectly  remember  his  carry- 
ing me  in  my  petticoats,  consoling  me  as  we  went,  and  giving 
me  something  nice  to  eat.  Perhaps  I  bear  his  features  in 
mind  the  more  accurately,  because  I  occasionally  saw  him 
afterwards,  till  I  was  seven  or  eight  years  old,  when  he  used  to 
visit  my  father,  who  was  then  under  misfortunes.  He  seldom 
came  without  something  kind  to  say,  or  good  to  give:  but  his 
last  and  capital  gift,  too  precious  to  be  ever  forgotten,  consisted 
of  two  small  books.  One  was  the  History  of  Parismus  and 
Parismenes,  and  the  other,  of  the  Seven  Champions  of  Chris- 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  3 

tendom.  These  were  to  me  an  inestimable  treasure,  that  often 
brought  the  rugged,  good-natured  Dick  to  my  remembrance, 
with  no  slight  sense  of  obligation.  .  .  . 

I  must  have  been  about  five  years  old,  when  my  father  put 
me  under  the  tuition  of  a  player  on  the  violin,  who  was  a  pub- 
lic performer  of  some  repute.  Either  parental  fondness  led 
my  father  to  believe,  or  he  was  flattered  into  the  supposition, 
chat  I  had  an  uncommon  aptitude  for  the  art  I  had  been  put 
to  learn.  I  shall  never  forget  the  high  praises  I  received, 
the  affirmation  that  I  was  a  prodigy,  and  the  assurances  my 
teacher  gave  that  I  should  soon  be  heard  in  public.  These 
dreams  were  never  realized.  .  .  . 

When  I  was  about  six  years  old,  the  scene  suddenly  changed. 
The  house-keeping  broke  up,  the  horses  were  sold,  and  we  went 
into  Berkshire,  somewhat  beyond  Ascot  Heath,  about  thirty 
miles  from  London.  The  house  where  we  lived  was  situated 
at  the  corner  of  the  road,  the  last  of  a  small  green,  or  common, 
down  which  the  road  had  a  descent.  For  I  remember  my 
father  at  first  had  a  tall,  high-boned  hack,  on  the  bare  back  of 
which  I  used,  by  his  order,  to  gallop  down  the  hill,  though  I 
felt  great  difficulty  in  keeping  my  seat.  It  was  in  this  retired 
spot  that  my  father  himself  began  to  teach  me  to  read.  The 
task  at  first  I  found  difficult,  till  the  idea  one  day  suddenly 
seized  me  of  catching  all  the  sounds  I  had  been  taught  from 
the  arrangement  of  the  letters ;  and  my  joy  at  this  amazing 
discovery  was  so  great,  that  the  recollection  of  it  has  never 
been  effaced.  After  that,  my  progress  was  so  rapid,  that  it 
astonished  my  father.  He  boasted  of  me  to  everybody ;  and 
that  I  might  lose  no  time,  the  task  he  set  me  was  eleven 
chapters  a  day  in  the  Old  Testament.  I  might  indeed  have 
deceived  my  father  by  skipping  some  of  the  chapters,  but  a 
dawning  regard  for  truth,  aided  by  the  love  I  had  of  reading, 
and  the  wonderful  histories  I  sometimes  found  in  the  Sacred 


4     INCIDENTS  IN  EARLY  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  HOLCBOFl,, 

Writings,  generally  induced  me  to  go  through,  the  whole  of  my 
task.  One  day  as  I  was  sitting  at  the  gate  with  my  Bible  in 
my  hand,  a  neighboring  farmer,  coming  to  see  my  father,  asked 
me  if  I  could  read  the  Bible  already  ?  I  answered,  yes ;  and  he 
desired  me  to  let  him  hear  me.  I  began  at  the  place  where  the 
book  was  open,  read  fluently,  and  afterwards  told  him,  that  if 
he  pleased,  he  should  hear  the  tenth  chapter  of  Nehemiah.  At 
this  he  seemed  still  more  amazed,  and,  wishing  to  be  convinced, 
bade  me  read.  After  listening  till  he  found  I  could  really 
pronounce  the  uncouth  Hebrew  names  so  much  better  and  more 
easily  than  he  supposed  to  be  within  the  power  of  so  young  a 
child,  he  patted  my  head,  gave  me  a  penny,  and  said  I  was  an 
uncommon  boy.  It  would  be  hard  to  say  whether  his  praise 
or  his  gift  was  most  flattering  to  me.  Soon  after,  my  father's 
apprentice,  the  kind-hearted  Dick,  who  came  backward  and 
forward  to  my  father  on  his  affairs,  brought  me  the  two  de- 
lightful histories  I  have  above-mentioned,  which  were  among 
those  then  called  Chapman's  Books.  It  was  scarcely  possible 
for  anything  to  have  been  more  grateful  to  me  than  this  pres- 
ent. Parismus  and  Parismenes,  with  all  the  adventures  de- 
tailed in  the  Seven  Champions  of  Christendom,  were  soon  as 
familiar  to  me  as  my  catechism,  or  the  daily  prayers  I  repeated 
kneeling  before  my  father.     Oh,  how  I  loved  poor  Dick ! 

My  father  was  an  excellent  pedestrian,  and  would  often  walk 
to  London  and  back  again,  more  than  sixty  miles,  in  the  same 
day.  Sometimes  he  dined  at  home,  and  went  to  London  in  the 
afternoon,  and  even  then,  I  rather  think,  though  I  cannot  be 
certain,  that  he  made  a  point  of  sleeping  in  his  own  house. 

One  afternoon,  he  was  desirous  of  going  to  town  at  a  later 
hour  than  usual,  and  therefore,  for  expedition's  sake,  he  bor- 
rowed a  light  grey  horse  of  a  neighbor,  on  condition  that  it 
should  be  returned  that  evening.  He  then  mounted,  and 
placed  me  behind  him,  trusting  to  my  courage  and  good  sense 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  5 

for  finding  my  way  home  with,  the  horse.  I  know  not  how  far 
he  took  me,  except  that  we  passed  over  some  part  of  Ascot 
Heath,  if  not  all  of  it ;  and  about  an  hour  before  it  was  dark, 
he  alighted,  left  me  on  horseback,  and  carefully  gave  me  such 
directions  as  he  supposed  I  could  not  mistake.  In  this  he  con- 
jectured rightly;  I  began  to  trot  away,  anxious  to  get  home 
before  it  was  too  dark  j  but  unluckily  for  me,  some  time  after 
we  had  parted,  with  no  human  being  in  sight,  nor  any  likelihood 
of  meeting  one,  the  horse  stumbled  among  some  ruts,  and  threw 
my  hat  off.  To  have  lost  my  hat  would  have  been  a  terrible 
misfortune;  I  therefore  ventured  to  alight  and  pick  it  up. 
Then  it  was  that  I  perceived  my  distress.  I  found  every 
attempt  I  made  to  remount  wholly  ineffectual,  and  all  I  could 
do  was  to  endeavor  to  drag  the  sluggish  animal  along,  and  cry 
bitterly.  Twilight  was  fast  approaching,  and  I  alone  on  the 
heath  (I  knew  not  how  far  from  home),  and  never  expecting  to 
reach  that  desired  place  that  evening.  At  length,  however, 
the  white  railing  of  the  race  course  on  Ascot  Heath  came  in 
sight,  and  I  conceived  hopes  of  remoimting.  Accordingly,  I 
with  great  difficulty  prevailed  on  my  grey  nag  to  stand  toler- 
ably nigh  the  railing,  on  which  I  clambered,  and  with  almost 
unspeakable  joy  I  found  myself  once  more  seated  on  his  back. 
I  had  another  piece  of  good  fortune ;  for,  before  I  had  gone  far, 
a  neighbor  happened  to  be  passing,  who,  seeing  a  child  so  cir- 
cumstanced, came  up,  asked  me  some  questions,  heard  the  story 
I  had  to  tell,  and  conveyed  me  safe  not  only  to  the  village,  but 
to  his  own  house,  where  he  gave  me  something  comfortable  to 
eat  and  drink,  sent  the  horse  to  its  right  owner,  and  put  me 
into  the  charge  of  some  one,  who  took  me  home.  .  .  . 

My  father  was  very  fond,  and  not  a  little  vain,  of  me.  He 
delighted  to  show  how  much  I  was  superior  to  other  children, 
and  this  propensity  had  sometimes  a  good  effect.  One  evening 
when  it  was  quite  dark,  day-light  having  entirely  disappeared, 


6     INCIDENTS  IN  EARLY  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  HOLCROFT, 

and  the  night  being  cloudy,  he  was  boasting  to  a  neighbor  of 
my  courage ;  and  his  companion  seeming  rather  to  doubt,  my 
father  replied,  he  would  put  it  immediately  to  the  proof. 
"  Tom,"  said  he,  "  you  must  go  to  the  house  of  Farmer  such- 
a-one  "  (I  well  remember  the  walk,  but  not  the  name  of  the 
person),  "  and  ask  whether  he  goes  to  London  to-morrow.'^  I 
was  startled,  but  durst  not  dispute  his  authority,  it  was  too  great 
over  me,  besides  that  my  vanity  to  prove  my  valor  was  not  a  little 
excited :  accordingly,  I  took  my  hat  and  immediately  obeyed. 

The  house  I  was  sent  to,  as  far  as  I  can  remember,  must 
have  been  between  a  quarter  and  half  a  mile  distant ;  and  the 
road  that  led  to  it,  was  by  the  side  of  the  ledge  on  the  left 
hand  of  the  common.  However,  I  knew  the  way  well  enough, 
and  proceeded ;  but  it  was  with  many  stops,  starts,  and  fears. 
It  may  be  proper  to  observe  here,  that  although  I  could  not 
have  been  without  courage,  yet  I  was  really,  when  a  child,  ex- 
ceedingly apprehensive,  and  full  of  superstition.  When  I  saw 
magpies,  it  denoted  good  or  ill  luck  according,  as  they  did  or  did 
not  cross  me.  When  walking,  I  pored  for  pins  or  rusty  nails  j 
which,  if  they  lay  in  certain  directions,  foreboded  some  misfort- 
une. Many  such  whims  possessed  my  brain ;  I  was  therefore 
not  at  all  free  from  notions  of  this  kind,  on  the  present  occasion. 
However,  I  went  forward  on  my  errand,  humming,  whistling, 
and  looking  as  carefully  as  I  could ;  now  and  then  making  a 
false  step,  which  helped  to  relieve  me,  for  it  obliged  me  to 
attend  to  the  road.  When  I  came  to  the  farm-house,  I  de- 
livered my  message.  "Bless  me,  child,"  cried  the  people 
within,  "  have  you  come  this  dark  night  all  alone  ?  "  "  Oh 
yes,"  I  said,  assuming  an  air  of  self-consequence.  "  And  who 
sent  you  ?  "  "  My  father  wanted  to  know,'^  I  replied  equivo- 
cally. One  of  them  then  offered  to  take  me  home,  but  of 
this  I  would  by  no  means  admit.  My  whole  little  stock  of 
vanity  was  roused,  and  I  hastily  scampered  out  of  the  house, 
and  was  hidden  in  the  dark.     My  return  was  something,  but 


TBE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  7 

not  much,  less  alarming  tlian  my  journey  tliitlier.  At  last  I 
got  safely  home,  glad  to  be  rid  of  my  fears,  and  inwardly  not  a 
little  elated  with  my  success.  "  Did  you  hear  or  see  anybody, 
Tom,"  said  my  father,  "  as  you  went  or  came  back  ?  "  "  No," 
said  I,  "  it  was  quite  dark  ;  not  but  I  thought  once  or  twice,  I  did 
hear  something  behind  me."  In  fact,  it  was  my  father  and  his 
companion,  who  had  followed  me  at  a  little  distance.  This,  my 
father,  in  fondly  praising  me  for  my  courage,  some  time  after 
told  me. 


YUSSOUF. 

James  Russell  Lowell. 


A  STRANGER  came  one  night  to  Yussouf's  tent, 

Saying,  "Behold  one  outcast  and  in  dread, 

Against  whose  life  the  bow  of  power  is  bent, 

Who  flies,  and  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head; 

I  come  to  thee  for  shelter  and  for  food. 

To  Yussouf,  called  through  all  our  tribes  '  The  Good. 

"  This  tent  is  mine, "  said  Yussouf,  "  but  no  more 

Than  it  is  God's;  come  in,  and  be  at  peace; 

Freely  shalt  thou  partake  of  all  my  store 

As  I  of  His  who  buildeth  over  these. 

Our  tents  His  glorious  roof  of  night  and  day. 

And  at  whose  door  none  ever  yet  heard  'Nay.' " 

So  Yussouf  entertained  his  guest  that  night, 
And,  waking  him  ere  day,  said :  "  Here  is  gold ; 
My  swiftest  horse  is  saddled  for  thy  flight ; 
Depart  before  the  prying  day  grow  bold." 


J  jj 


THE  STORY  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR. 

As  one  lamp  lights  another,  nor  grows  less, 
So  nobleness  enkindleth  nobleness. 

That  inward  light  the  stranger's  face  made  grand, 
Which  shines  from  all  self -conquest;  kneeling  low, 
He  bowed  his  forehead  upon  Yussouf's  hand. 
Sobbing :  "  O  Sheik,  I  cannot  leave  thee  so ; 
I  will  repay  thee ;  all  this  thou  hast  done 
Unto  that  Ibrahim  who  slew  thy  son !  " 

"  Take  thrice  the  gold, "  said  Yussouf,  "  for  with  thee 

Into  the  desert,  never  to  return. 

My  one  black  thought  shall  ride  away  from  me ; 

First-born,  for  whom  by  day  and  night  I  yearn, 

Balanced  and  just  are  all  of  God's  decrees; 

Thou  art  avenged,  my  first-born,  sleep  in  peace !  " 


THE  STORY   OF  SINBAD   THE   SAILOR. 

From  The  Arabian  Nights  Entertainments. 

Translated  by  Jonathan  Scott. 

In  the  reign  of  Haroon  al  Rusheed  there  lived  at  Bagdad  a 
poor  porter  called  Hinbad.  One  day,  when  the  weather  was 
excessively  hot,  he  was  employed  to  carry  a  heavy  burden 
from  one  end  of  the  town  to  the  other.  Being  much  fatigued, 
and  having  still  a  great  way  to  go,  he  came  into  a  street 
where  a  refreshing  breeze  blew  on  his  face,  and  the  pavement 
was  sprinkled  with  rose-water.  As  he  could  not  desire  a 
better  place  to  rest  and  recruit  himself,  he  took  off  his  load, 
and  sat  upon  it,  near  a  large  mansion. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  9 

He  was  much  pleased  that  he  stopped  in  this  place,  for  the 
agreeable  smell  of  wood  of  aloes,  and  of  pastils  that  came 
from  the  house,  mixing  with  the  scent  of  the  rose-water,  com- 
pletely perfumed  and  embalmed  the  air.  Besides,  he  heard 
from  within  a  concert  of  instrumental  music,  accompanied 
with  the  harmonious  notes  of  nightingales,  and  other  birds 
peculiar  to  the  climate.  This  charming  melody,  and  the 
smell  of  several  sorts  of  savory  dishes,  made  the  porter  con- 
clude there  was  a  feast  with  great  rejoicings  within.  His 
business  seldom  leading  him  that  way,  he  knew  not  to  whom 
the  mansion  belonged;  but  to  satisfy  his  curiosity,  he  went 
to  some  of  the  servants,  whom  he  saw  standing  at  the  gate  in 
magnificent  apparel,  and  asked  the  name  of  the  proprietor. 
"How,"  replied  one  of  them,  "do  you  live  in  Bagdad  and 
know  not  that  this  is  the  house  of  Sinbad,  the  sailor,  that 
famous  voyager  who  has  sailed  round  the  world?"  The 
porter,  who  had  heard  of  this  Sinbad's  riches,  could  not  but 
envy  a  man  whose  condition  he  thought  to  be  as  happy  as  his 
own  was  deplorable;  and  his  mind  being  fretted  with  these 
reflections,  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  said  loud 
enough  to  be  heard,  "  Almighty  creator  of  all  things,  consider 
the  difference  between  Sinbad  and  me!  I  am  every  day 
exposed  to  fatigues  and  calamities,  and  can  scarcely  get  coarse 
barley  bread  for  myself  and  my  family,  whilst  Sinbad  pro- 
fusely expends  immense  riches,  and  leads  a  life  of  continual 
pleasure.  What  has  he  done  .to  obtain  from  thee  a  lot  so 
agreeable?  And  what  have  I  done  to  deserve  one  so 
wretched?"  Having  finished  his  expostulation,  he  struck 
his  foot  against  the  ground,  like  a  man  absorbed  in  grief  and 
despair. 

While  the  porter  was  thus  indulging  his  melancholy,  a 
servant  came  out  of  the  house,  and  taking  him  by  the  arm, 
bade   him  follow   him,   for   Sinbad,   his  master,   wanted  to 


10  THE  STORY  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR. 

speak  to  him.  The  repining  Hinbad  was  not  a  little 
surprised  at  this  compliment.  For,  considering  what  he 
had  said,  he  was  afraid  Sinbad  had  sent  for  him  to  punish 
him :  therefore  he  would  have  excused  himself,  alleging  that 
he  could  not  leave  his  burden  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 
But  Sinbad's  servants  assured  him  they  would  look  to  it, 
and  were  so  urgent  with  him,  that  he  was  obliged  to  yield. 

The  servants  brought  him  into  a  great  hall,  where  a  number 
of  people  sat  round  a  table  covered  with  all  sorts  of  savory 
dishes.  At  the  upper  end  sat  a  comely,  venerable  gentleman, 
with  a  long  white  beard,  and  behind  him  stood  a  number  of 
officers  and  domestics,  all  ready  to  attend  his  pleasure.  This 
personage  was  Sinbad.  The  porter,  whose  fear  was  in- 
creased at  the  sight  of  so  many  people,  and  of  a  banquet  so 
sumptuous,  saluted  the  company  trembling.  Sinbad  bade 
him  draw  near,  and  seating  him  at  his  right  hand,  served 
him  himself,  and  gave  him  excellent  wine,. of  which  there 
was  abundance  upon  the  sideboard. 

When  the  repast  was  over,  Sinbad  addressed  his  conversa- 
tion to  Hinbad;  and  calling  him  brother,  according  to  the 
manner  of  the  Arabians,  when  they  are  familiar  one  with 
another,  inquired,  his  name  and  employment.  "My  lord," 
answered  he,  "my  name  is  Hinbad."  —  "I  am  very  glad  to 
see.  you,"  replied  Sinbad;  "and  I  dare  say  the  same  on 
behalf  of  all  the  company ;  but  I  wish  to  hear  from  your  own 
mouth  what  it  was  you  lately  said  in  the  street."  Sinbad 
had  himself  heard  the  porter  complain  through  the  window, 
and  this  it  was  that  induced  him  to  have  him  brought  in. 

At  this  request  Hinbad  hung  down  his  head  in  confusion, 
and  replied,  "  My  lord,  I  confess  that  my  fatigue  put  me  out 
of  hum'or,  and  occasioned  me  to  utter  some  indiscreet  words, 
which  I  beg  you  to  pardon."  —  "  Do  not  think  I  am  so  unjust," 
resumed  Sinbad,  !'as  to   resent   such   a  complaint.     I   con- 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  11 

sider  your  condition,  and  instead  of  upbraiding,  commiserate 
you.  But  I  must  rectify  your  error  concerning  myself.  You 
think,  no  doubt,  that  I  have  acquired,  without  labor  and 
trouble,  the  ease  and  indulgence  which  I  now  enjoy.  But 
do  not  mistake;  I  did  not  attain  to  this  happy  condition 
without  enduring  for  several  years  more  trouble  of  body  and 
mind  than  can  well  be  imagined.  Yes,  gentlemen,"  he  added, 
speaking  to  the  whole  company,  "  I  can  assure  you,  my  troubles 
were  so  extraordinary,  that  they  were  calculated  to  discourage 
the  most  covetous  from  undertaking  such  voyages  as  I  did  to 
acquire  riches.  Perhaps  you  have  never  heard  a  distinct 
account  of  my  wonderful  adventures,  and  the  dangers  I 
encountered  in  my  seven  voyages;  and  since  I  have  this 
opportunity,  I  will  give  you  a  faithful  account  of  them,  not 
doubting  but  it  will  be  acceptable. 

As  Sinbad  wished  to  relate  his  adventures  chiefly  on  the 
porter's  account,  he  ordered  his  burden  to  be  carried  to  the 
place  of  its  destination,  and  then  proceeded. 


THE  FIRST  VOYAGE. 

"I  inherited  from  my  father  considerable  property,  the 
greater  part  of  which  I  squandered  in  my  youth  in  dissipation ; 
but  I  perceived  my  error,  and  reflected  that  riches  were 
perishable,  and  quickly  consumed  by  such  ill  managers  as 
myself.  I  farther  considered,  that,  by  my  i»regular  way  of 
living,  I  wretchedly  misspent  my  time,  which  is,  of  all  things, 
the  most  valuable.  I  remembered  the  saying  of  the  great 
Solomon  which  I  had  frequently  heard  from  my  father,  that 
death  is  more  tolerable  than  poverty.  Struck  with  these 
reflections,  I  collected  the  remains  of  my  fortune,  and  sold 
all  my  effects  by  public  auction.  I  then  entered  into  a 
contract  with  some  merchants,  who  traded  by  sea.     I  took 


12  THE  STOBY  OF  SINE  AD  THE  SAILOE, 

the  advice  of  such  as  I  thought  most  capable  of  assisting 
me :  and  resolving  to  improve  what  money  I  had,  I  went  to 
Bussorah,  and  embarked  with  several  merchants  on  board  a 
ship  which  we  had  jointly  fitted  out. 

"We  set  sail,  and  steered  our  course  towards  the  Indies, 
through  the  Persian  Gulf,  which  is  formed  by  the  coasts  of 
Arabia  Felix  on  the  right  and  by  those  of  Persia  on  the  left, 
and,  according  to  common  opinion,  is  seventy  leagues  wide  at 
the  broadest  place.  The  eastern  sea,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
Indies,  is  very  spacious.  It  is  bounded  on  one  side  by  the 
coasts  of  Abyssinia,  and  is  four  thousand  and  five  hundred 
leagues  in  length  to  the  isles  of  Vakvak.  At  first  I  was 
troubled  with  the  sea-sickness,  but  speedily  recovered  my 
health,  and  was   not  afterwards  subject  to   that  complaint. 

"In  our  voyage  we  touched  at  several  islands,  where  we 
sold  or  exchanged  our  goods.  One  day,  whilst  under  sail, 
we  were  becalmed  near  a  small  island,  but  little  elevated 
above  the  level  of  the  water,  and  resembling  a  green  meadow. 
The  captain  ordered  his  sails  to  be  furled,  and  permitted  such 
persons  as  were  so  inclined  to  land;  of  this  number  I  was 
one. 

"But  while  we  were  enjoying  ourselves  in  eating  and 
drinking,  and  recovering  ourselves  from  the  fatigue  of  the 
sea,  the  island  on  a  sudden  trembled,  and  shook  us  terribly. 
The  trembling  of  the  island  was  perceived  on  board  the  ship, 
and  we  were  called  upon  to  re-embark  speedily,  or  we  should  all 
be  lost ;  for  what  we  took  for  an  island  proved  to  be  the  back 
of  a  sea  monster.  The  nimblest  got  into  the  sloop,  others 
betook  themselves  to  swimming;  but  for  myself,  I  was  still 
upon  the  back  of  the  creature  when  he  dived  into  the  sea,  and 
I  had  time  only  to  catch  hold  of  a  piece  of  wood  that  we  had 
brought  out  of  the  ship  to  make  a  fire.  Meanwhile,  the  cap- 
tain, having  received  those  on  board  who  were  in  the  sloop, 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  13 

and  taken  up  some  of  those  that  swam,  resolved  to  improve 
the  favorable  gale  that  had  just  risen,  and  hoisting  his  sails, 
pursued  his  voyage,  so  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to 
recover  the  ship. 

"Thus  was  I  exposed  to  the  mercy  of  the  waves.  I 
struggled  for  my  life  all  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  the  fol- 
lowing night.  By  this  time  I  found  my  strength  gone,  and 
despaired  of  saving  my  life,  when  happily  a  wave  threw  me 
against  an  island.  The  bank  was  high  and  rugged;  so  that  I 
could  scarcely  have  got  up,  had  it  not  been  for  some  roots  of 
trees,  which  fortune  seemed  to  have  preserved  in  this  place 
for  my  safety.  Having  reached  the  land,  I  lay  down  upon 
the  ground  half  dead,  until  the  sun  appeared.  Then,  though 
I  was  very  feeble,  both  from  hard  labor  and  want  of  food, 
I  crept  along  to  find  some  herbs  fit  to  eat,  and  had  the  good 
luck,  not  only  to  procure  some,  but  likewise  to  discover  a 
spring  of  excellent  water,  which  contributed  much  to  recover 
me.  After  this  I  advanced  farther  into  the  island,  and  at 
last  reached  a  fine  plain,  where  at  a  great  distance  I  perceived 
a  horse  feeding.  I  went  towards  it,  fluctuating  between  hope 
and  fear,  for  I  knew  not  whether  in  advancing  I  was  more 
likely  to  endanger  or  to  preserve  my  life.  As  I  approached, 
I  perceived  it  to  be  a  very  fine  mare,  tied  to  a  stake.  Whilst 
I  was  admiring  its  beauty,  I  heard  from  beneath  the  voice 
of  a  man,  who  immediately  appeared,  and  asked  me  who  I 
was.  I  related  to  him  my  adventure,  after  which,  taking 
me  by  the  hand,  he  led  me  into  a  cave,  where  there  were 
several  other  people,  no  less  amazed  to  see  me  than  I  was  to 
see  them. 

"I  partook  of  some  provisions  which  they  offered  me.  I 
then  asked  them  what  they  did  in  such  a  desert  place,  to 
which  they  answered,  that  they  were  grooms  belonging  to  the 
Maha-raja,  sovereign  of  the  island,  and  that  every  year,  at 


14  THE  8T0BY  OF  SIN  BAD   THE  SAILOR. 

the  same  season,  they  brought  thither  the  king's  mares  and 
tethered  them  as  I  had  seen.  .  .  .  They  added  that  they  were 
to  return  home  on  the  morrow,  and  had  I  been  one  day  later, 
I  must  have  perished,  because  the  inhabited  part  of  the  island 
was  at  a  great  distance,  and  it  would  have  been  impossible 
for  me  to  go  thither  without  a  guide. 

"Next  morning  they  returned  with  their  mares  to  the 
capital  of  the  island,  took  me  with  them,  and  presented  me 
to  the  Maha-raja.  He  asked  me  who  I  was,  and  by  what 
adventure  I  had  come  into  his  dominions.  After  I  had 
satisfied  him,  he  told  me  he  was  much  concerned  for  my 
misfortune,  and  at  the  same  time  ordered  that  I  should  want 
nothing;  which  commands  his  officers  were  so  generous  and 
careful  as  to  see  exactly  fulfilled. 

"  Being  a  merchant,  I  frequented  men  of  my  own  profes- 
sion, and  particularly  inquired  for  those  who  were  strangers, 
that  perchance  I  might  hear  news  from  Bagdad,  or  find  an 
opportunity  to  return.  For  the  Maha-raja's  capital  is  situ- 
ated on  the  sea-coast,  and  has  a  fine  harbor,  where  ships 
arrive  daily  from  the  different  quarters  of  the  world.  I 
frequented  also  the  society  of  the  learned  Indians,  and  took 
delight  to  hear  them  converse;  but  withal,  I  took  care  to 
make  my  court  regularly  to  the  Maha-raja,  and  conversed 
with  the  governors  and  petty  kings,  his  tributaries,  that  were 
about  him.  They  put  a  thousand  questions  respecting  my 
country;  and  I,  being  willing  to  inform  myself  as  to  their 
laws  and  customs,  asked  them  concerning  everything  which  I 
thought  worth  knowing. 

"  There  belongs  to  this  king  an  island  named  Cassel.  They 
assured  me  that  every  night  a  noise  of  drums  was  heard 
there,  whence  the  mariners  fancied  that  it  was  the  residence 
of  Degial.  I  determined  to  visit  this  wonderful  place,  and 
in    my  way   thither  saw    fishes    of    one    hundred   and   two 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  15 

hundred 'cubits  long,  that  occasion  more  fear  than  hurt;  for 
they  are  so  timorous  that  they  will  fly  upon  the  rattling  of 
two  sticks  or  boards.  I  saw,  likewise,  other  fish  about  a 
cubit  in  length,  that  had  heads  like  owls. 

"As  I  was  one  day  at  the  port  after  my  return,  a  ship 
arrived,  and  as  soon  as  she  cast  anchor,  they  began  to  unload 
her,  and  the  merchants  on  board  ordered  their  goods  to  be 
carried  into  the  custom-house.  As  I  cast  my  eye  upon  some 
bales,  and  looked  to  the  name,  I  found  my  own,  and  perceived 
the  bales  to  be  the  same  that  I  had  embarked  at  Bussorah. 
I  also  knew  the  captain ;  but  being  persuaded  that  he  believed 
me  to  be  drowned,  I  went  and  asked  him  whose  bales  these 
were?  He  replied  that  they  belonged  to  a  merchant  at 
Bagdad,  called  Sinbad,  who  came  to  sea  with  him;  but  one 
day,  being  near  an  island,  as  was  supposed,  he  went  ashore, 
with  several  other  passengers,  upon  this  island,  which  was 
only  a  monstrous  fish,  that  lay  asleep  upon  the  surface  of  the 
water;  but  as  soon  as  he  felt  the  heat  of  the  fire  they  had 
kindled  upon  his  back,  to  dress  some  victuals,  he  began  to 
move,  and  dived  under  water.  Most  of  the  persons  who  were 
upon  him  perished,  and  among  them  the  unfortunate  Sinbad. 
'These  bales  belonged  to  him,'  he  added,  'and  I  am  resolved 
to  trade  with  them  until  I  meet  with  some  of  his  family  to 
whom  I  may  return  the  profit.'  *I  am  that  Sinbad,'  said  I, 
'whom  you  thought  to  be  dead,  and  those  bales  are  mine.' 

"When  the  captain  heard  me  speak  thus,  'Heavens!'  he 
exclaimed,  'whom  can  we  trust  in  these  times?  There  is  no 
faith  left  among  men.  I  saw  Sinbad  perish  with  my  own 
eyes,  as  did  also  the  passengers  on  board,  and  yet  you  tell 
me  you  are  that  Sinbad.  What  impudence  is  this  ?  To  look  on 
you,  one  would  take  you  to  be  a  man  of  probity,  and  yet  you 
tell  a  horrible  falsehood,  in  order  to  possess  yourself  of  what 
does  not  belong  to  you.'     ^  Have  patience,'  replied  I ;  ^  do  me 


16  THE  STOBY  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR, 

the  favor  to  hear  what  I  have  to  say.'  'Very  well/  said  he, 
*speakj  I  am  ready  to  hear  you/  Then  I  told  him  how  I 
had  escaped,  and  by  what  adventure  I  met  with  the  grooms 
of  the  Maha-raja,  who  had  brought  me  to  his  court. 

"His  confidence  began  to  abate  upon  this  declaration,  and 
he  was  at  length  persuaded  that  I  was  no  cheat;  for  there 
came  people  from  his  ship  who  knew  me,  paid  me  great 
compliments,  and  expressed  much  joy  at  seeing  me  alive.  At 
last  he  recollected  me  himself,  and  embracing  me,  '  Heaven  be 
praised,'  said  he,  'for  your  happy  escape.  I  cannot  express 
the  joy  it  affords  me ;  there  are  your  goods ;  take  and  do  with 
them  as  you  please.'  I  thanked  him,  acknowledged  his 
probity,  and  in  requital  offered  him  part  of  my  goods  as  a 
present,  which  he  generously  refused. 

"  I  took  what  was  most  valuable  in  my  bales,  and  presented 
them  to  the  Maha-raja,  who,  knowing  my  misfortune,  asked 
me  how  I  came  by  such  rarities.  I  acquainted  him  with  the 
circumstance  of  their  recovery.  He  was  pleased  at  my  good 
luck,  accepted  my  present,  and  in  return  gave  me  one  much 
more  considerable.  Upon  this,  I  took  leave  of  him,  and  went 
aboard  the  same  ship,  after  I  had  exchanged  my  goods  for 
the  commodities  of  that  country.  I  carried  with  me  wood 
of  aloes,  sandal,  camphire,  nutmegs,  cloves,  pepper,  and 
ginger.  We  passed  by  several  islands,  and  at  last  arrived 
at  Bussorah,  from  whence  I  came  to  this  city  with  the  value 
of  one  hundred  thousand  sequins.  My  family  and  I  received 
one  another  with  all  the  transports  of  sincere  affection.  I 
bought  slaves  of  both  sexes,  and  a  landed  estate,  and  built  a 
magnificent  house.  Thus  I  settled  myself,  resolving  to  forget 
the  miseries  I  had  suffered,  and  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of 
life." 

Sinbad  stopped  here,  and  ordered  the  musicians  to  proceed 
with  their  concert,  which  the  story  had  interrupted.      The 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  17 

company  continued  enjoying  themselves  till  the  evening,  and 
it  was  time  to  retire,  when  Sinbad  sent  for  a  purse  of  one 
hundred  sequins,  and  giving  it  to  the  porter,  said,  "Take 
this,  Hinbad,  return  to  your  home,  and  come  back  to-morrow 
to  hear  more  of  my  adventures."  The  porter  went  away, 
astonished  at  the  honor  done,  and  the  present  made  him. 
The  account  of  this  adventure  proved  very  agreeable  to  his 
wife  and  children,  who  did  not  fail  to  return  thanks  to  God 
for  what  Providence  had  sent  them  by  the  hand  of  Sinbad. 

Hinbad  put  on  his  best  apparel  next  day,  and  returned  to 
the  bountiful  traveller,  who  received  him  with  a  pleasant  air, 
and  welcomed  him  heartily.  When  all  the  guests  had 
arrived,  dinner  was  served,  and  continued  a  long  time. 
When  it  was  ended,  Sinbad,  addressing  himself  to  the 
company,  said,  "Gentlemen,  be  pleased  to  listen  to  the 
adventures  of  my  second  voyage;  they  deserve  your  atten- 
tion even  more  than  those  of  the  first."  Upon  which  every 
one  held  his  peace,  and  Sinbad  proceeded. 

THE  SECOND   VOYAGE. 

"  I  designed,  after  my  first  voyage,  to  spend  the  rest  of  my 
days  at  Bagdad,  as  I  had  the  honor  to  tell  you  yesterday ;  but 
it  was  not  long  ere  I  grew  weary  of  an  indolent  life.  My 
inclination  to  trade  revived.  I  bougnt  goods  proper  for  the 
commerce  I  intended,  and  put  to  sea  a  second  time  with 
merchants  of  known  probity.  We  embarked  on  board  a  good 
ship,  and  after  recommending  ourselves  to  God,  set  sail.  We 
traded  from  island  to  island,  and  exchanged  commodities  with 
great  profit.  One  day  we  landed  in  an  island  covered  with 
several  sorts  of  fruit-trees,  but  we  could  see  neither  man  nor 
animal.  We  went  to  take  a  little  fresh  air  in  the  meadows, 
along  the  streams  that  watered  them.     Whilst  some  diverted 


18  THE  8T0UY  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR, 

themselves  with  gathering  flowers,  and  others,  fruits,  I  took 
my  wine  and.  provisions,  and  sat  down  near  a  stream  betwixt 
two  high  trees,  which  formed  a  thick  shade.  I  made  a  good 
meal,  and  afterwards  fell  asleep.  I  cannot  tell  how  long  I 
slept,  but  when  I  awoke  the  ship  was  gone.  ...  I  got  up  and 
looked  around  me,  but  could  not  see  one  of  the  merchants 
who  landed  with  me.  I  perceived  the  ship  under  sail,  but  at 
such  a  distance-,  that  I  lost  sight  of  her  in  a  short  time. 

"  I  leave  you  to  guess  at  my  melancholy  reflections  in  this 
sad  condition :  I  was  ready  to  die  with  grief.  I  cried  out  in 
agony,  beat  my  head  and  breast,  and  threw  myself  upon  the 
ground,  where  I  lay  some  time  in  despair,  one  afilicting 
thought  being  succeeded  by  another  still  more  afflicting.  I 
upbraided  myself  a  hundred  times  for  not  being  content 
with  the  produce  of  my  first  voyage,  that  might  have  sufficed 
me  all  my  life.  But  all  this  was  in  vain,  and  my  repentance 
too  late. 

"At  last  I  resigned  myself  to  the  will  of  God.  Not 
knowing  what  to  do,  I  climbed  up  to  the  top  of  a  lofty  tree, 
from  whence  I  looked  about  on  all  sides,  to  see  if  I  could 
discover  anything  that  could  give  me  hopes.  When  I  gazed 
towards  the  sea  I  could  see  nothing  but  sky  and  water;  but 
looking  over  the  land  I  beheld  something  white ;  and  coming 
down,  I  took  what  provision  I  had  left  and  went  towards  it, 
the  distance  being  so  great  that  I  could  not  distinguish  what 
it  was. 

"As  I  approached,  I  thought  it  to  be  a  white  dome,  of  a 
prodigious  height  and  extent;  and  when  I  came  up  to  it,  I 
touched  it,  and  found  it  to  be  very  smooth.  I  went  round  to 
see  if  it  was  open  on  any  side,  but  saw  it  was  not,  and  that 
there  was  no  climbing  up  to  the  top  as  it  was  so  smooth.  It 
was,  at  least,  fifty  paces  round. 

"By  this  time  the   sun  was  about  to   set,  and  all  of  a 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  19 

sudden  the  sky  became  as  dark  as  if  it  had  been  covered  with 
a  thick  cloud.  I  was  much  astonished  at  this  sudden  dark- 
ness, but  much  more  when  I  found  it  occasioned  by  a  bird 
of  a  monstrous  size,  that  came  flying  toward  me.  I  remem- 
bered that  I  had  often  heard  mariners  speak  of  a  miraculous 
bird  called  roc,  and  conceived  that  the  great  dome  which  I  so 
much  admired  must  be  its  egg.  In  short,  the  bird  alighted, 
and  sat  over  the  egg.  As  I  perceived  her  coming,  I  crept 
close  to  the  egg,  so  that  I  had  before  me  one  of  the  legs  of 
the  bird,  which  was  as  big  as  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  I  tied 
myself  strongly  to  it  with  my  turban,  in  hopes  that  the  roc, 
next  morning,  would  carry  me  with  her  out  of  this  desert 
island. 

"  After  having  passed  the  night  in  this  condition,  the  bird 
flew  away  as  soon  as  it  was  daylight,  and  carried  me  so 
high,  that  I  could  not  discern  the  earth;  she  afterwards 
descended  with  so  much  rapidity  that  I  lost  my  senses.  But 
when  I  found  myself  on  the  ground,  I  speedily  untied  the 
knot,  and  had  scarcely  done  so,  when  the  roc,  having  taken 
up  a  serpent  of  monstrous  length  in  her  bill,  flew  away. 

"The  spot  where  it  left  me  was  encompassed  on  all  sides 
by  mountains,  that  seemed  to  reach  above  the  clouds,  and  so 
steep  that  there  was  no  possibility  of  getting  out  of  the 
valley.  This  was  a  new  perplexity :  so  that  when  I  compared 
this  place  with  the  desert  island  from  which  the  roc  had 
brought  me,  I  found  that  I  had  gained  nothing  by  the  change. 

"As  I  walked  through  this  valley,  I  perceived  it  was 
strewed  with  diamonds,  some  of  which  were  of  a  surprising 
bigness.  I  took  pleasure  in  looking  upon  them;  but  shortly 
saw  at  a  distance  such  objects  as  greatly  diminished  my 
satisfaction,  and  which  I  could  not  view  Without  terror, 
namely  a  great  number  of  serpents,  so  monstrous  that  the 
least  of  them  was  capable  of  swallowing  an  elephant.     They 


20  THE  STOUT  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR, 

retired  in  the  day-time  to  their  dens,  where  they  hid  them- 
selves from  the  roc,  their  enemy,  and  came  out  only  in  the 
night. 

"I  spent  the  day  in  walking  about  in  the  valley,  resting 
myself,  at  times,  in  such  places  as  I  thought  most  convenient. 
When  night  came  on,  I  went  into  a  cave,  where  I  thought  I 
might  repose  in  safety.  I  secured  the  entrance,  which  was 
low  and  narrow,  with  a  great  stone,  to  preserve  me  from  the 
serpents;  but  not  so  far  as  to  exclude  the  light.  I  supped 
on  part  of  my  provisions,  but  the  serpents,  which  began 
hissing  round  me,  put  me  into  such  extreme  fear,  that  you 
may  easily  imagine  I  did  not  sleep.  When  day  appeared, 
the  serpents  retired,  and  I  came  out  of  the  cave  trembling. 
I  can  justly  say  that  I  walked  upon  diamonds,  without  feeling 
any  inclination  to  touch  them.  At  last  I  sat  down,  and 
notwithstanding  my  apprehensions,  not  having  closed  my 
eyes  during  the  night,  fell  asleep,  after  having  eaten  a  little 
more  of  my  provisions.  But  I  had  scarcely  shut  my  eyes, 
when  something  that  fell  by  me  with  a  great  noisa  awaked  me. 
This  was  a  large  piece  of  raw  meat;  and  at  the  same  time  I 
saw  several  others  fall  down  from  the  rocks  in  different  places. 

"I  had  always  regarded  as  fabulous  what  I  had  heard 
sailors  and  others  relate  of  the  valley  of  diamonds,  and  of 
the  stratagems  employed  by  merchants  to  obtain  jewels  from 
thence;  but  now  I  found  that  they  had  stated  nothing  but 
truth.  For  the  fact  is,  that  the  merchants  come  to  the 
neighborhood  of  this  valley  when  the  eagles  have  young  ones, 
and  throwing  great  joints  of  meat  into  the  valley,  the  dia- 
monds, upon  whose  points  they  fall,  stick  to  them;  the 
eagles,  which  are  stronger  in  this  country  than  anywhere 
else,  pounce  with  great  force  upon  those  pieces  of  meat,  and 
carry  them  to  their  nests  on  the  precipices  of  the  rock,  to 
feed  their  young:  the  merchants  at  this  time  run  to  their 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  21 

nests,  disturb  and  drive  off  the  eagles  by  their  shouts,  and 
take  away  the  diamonds  that  stick  to  the  meat. 

"Until  I  perceived  the  device,  I  had  concluded  it  to  be 
impossible  for  me  to  get  from  this  abyss,  which  I  regarded 
as  my  grave;  but  now  I  changed  my  opinion,  and  began  to 
think  upon  the  means  of  my  deliverance.  I  began  to  collect 
together  the  largest  diamonds  I  could  find,  and  put  them  into 
the  leather  bag  in  which  I  used  to  carry  my  provisions.  I 
afterwards  took  the  largest  of  the  pieces  of  meat,  tied  it  close 
round  me  with  the  cloth  of  my  turban,  and  then  laid  myself 
upon  the  ground  with  my  face  downward,  the  bag  of  diamonds 
being  made  fast  to  my  girdle. 

"I  had  scarcely  placed  myself  in  this  posture  when  the 
eagles  came.  Each  of  them  seized  a  piece  of  meat,  and  one 
of  the  strongest  having  taken  me  up,  with  the  piece  of  meat  to 
which  I  was  fastened,  carried  me  to  his  nest  on  the  top  of  the 
mountain.  The  merchants  immediately  began  their  shouting 
to  frighten  the  eagles ;  and  when  they  had  obliged  them  to 
quit  their  prey,  one  of  them  came  to  the  nest  where  I  was. 
He  was  much  alarmed  when  he  saw  me ;  but  recovering  him- 
self, instead  of  inquiring  how  I  came  thither,  began  to  quarrel 
with  me,  and  asked  why  I  stole  his  goods.  '  You  will  treat 
me, '  replied  I,  '  with  more  civility,  when  you  know  me  better. 
Do  not  be  uneasy,  I  have  diamonds  enough  for  you  and  my- 
self, more  than  all  the  other  merchants  together.  Whatever 
they  have  they  owe  to  chance,  but  I  selected  for  myself  in 
the  bottom  of  the  valley  those  which  you  see  in  this  bag. '  I 
had  scarcely  done  speaking,  when  the  other  merchants  came 
crowding  about  us,  much  astonished  to  see  me;  but  they  were 
much  more  surprised  when  I  told  them  my  story.  Yet  they 
did  not  so  much  admire  my  stratagem  to  effect  my  deliver- 
ance, as  my  courage  in  putting  it  into  execution. 

"  They  conducted  me  to  their  encampment,  and  there  haV- 


22  THE  STORY  OF  SIN  BAD   THE  SAILOR. 

ing  opened  my  bag,  they  were  surprised  at  the  largeness  of 
my  diamonds,  and  confessed,  that  in  all  the  courts  which  they 
had  visited  they  had  never  seen  any  of  such  size  and  perfec- 
tion. I  prayed  the  merchant,  who  owned  the  nest  to  which 
I  had  been  carried  (for  every  merchant  had  his  own),  to  take 
as  many  for  his  share  as  he  pleased.  He  contented  himself 
with  one,  and  that  too  the  least  of  them ;  and  when  I  pressed 
him  to  take  more,  without  fear  of  doing  me  any  injury,  'No,' 
said  he,  *I  am  very  well  satisfied  with  this,  which  is  valuable 
enough  to  save  me  the  trouble  of  making  any  more  voyages, 
and  will  raise  as  great  a  fortune  as  I  desire/ 

"  I  spent  the  night  with  the  merchants,  to  whom  I  related  my 
story  a  second  time,  for  the  satisfaction  of  those  who  had  not 
heard  it.  I  could  not  moderate  my  joy  when  I  found  myself 
delivered  from  the  danger  I  have  mentioned.  I  thought  my- 
self in  a  dream,  and  could  scarcely  believe  myself  out  of 
danger. 

"The  merchants  had  thrown  their  pieces  of  meat  into  the 
valley  for  several  days,  and  each  of  them  being  satisfied 
with  the  diamonds  that  had  fallen  to  his  lot,  we  left  the  next 
morning,  and  travelled  near  high  mountains,  where  there  were 
serpents  of  a  prodigious  length,  which  we  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  escape.  We  took  shipping  at  the  first  port  we  reached, 
and  touched  at  the  isle  of  Roha,  where  the  trees  grow  that 
yield  camphire.  This  tree  is  so  large,  and  its  branches  so 
thick,  that  one  hundred  men  may  easily  sit  under  its  shade. 
The  juice,  of  which  the  camphire  is  made,  exudes  from  a  hole 
bored  in  the  upper  part  of  the  tree,  is  received  in  a  vessel, 
where  it  thickens  to  a  consistency,  and  becomes  what  we  call 
camphire;  after  the  juice  is  thus  drawn  out,  the  tree  withers 
and  dies. 

"  In  this  island  is  also  found  the  rhinoceros,  an  animal  less 
than  the  elephant,  but  larger  than  the  buffalo.     It  has  a  horn 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  23 

upon  its  nose,  about  a  cubit  in  length ;  this  horn  is  solid,  and 
cleft  through  the  middle ;  upon  this  may  be  seen  white  lines, 
representing  the  figure  of  a  man.  The  rhinoceros  fights  with 
the  elephant,  runs  his  horn  into  his  belly,  and  carries  him  off 
upon  his  head ;  but  the  blood  and  the  fat  of  the  elephant  run- 
ning into  his  eyes,  and  making  him  blind,  he  falls  to  the 
ground;  and  then,  strange  to  relate,  the  roc  comes  and  carries 
them  both  away  in  her  claws,  for  food  for  her  young  ones. 

"  I  pass  over  many  other  things  peculiar  to  this  island,  lest  I 
should  be  troublesome  to  you.  Here  I  exchanged  some  of  my 
diamonds  for  merchandise.  From  hence  we  went  to  other 
islands,  and  at  last,  having  touched  at  several  trading  towns 
of  the  continent,  we  landed  at  Bussorah,  from  whence  I  pro- 
ceeded to  Bagdad.  There  I  immediately  gave  large  presents 
to  the  poor,  and  lived  honorably  upon  the  vast  riches  I  had 
brought,  and  gained  with  so  much  fatigue." 

Thus  Sinbad  ended  the  relation  of  the  second  voyage,  gave 
Hinbad  another  hundred  sequins,  and  invited  him  to  come  the 
next  day  to  hear  the  account  of  the  third.  The  rest  of  the 
guests  returned  to  their  homes,  and  came  again  the  following 
day  at  the  same  hour,  and  one  may  be  sure  the  porter  did  not 
fail,  having  by  this  time  almost  forgotten  his  former  poverty. 
When  dinner  was  over,  Sinbad  demanded  attention,  and  gave 
'ihem  an  account  of  his  third  voyage,  as  follows : 

THE  THIRD   VOYAGE. 

''I  soon  lost  in  the  pleasures  of  life  the  remembrance  of  the 
perils  I  had  encountered  in  my  two  former  voyages ;  and  being 
in  the  flower  of  my  age,  I  grew  weary  of  living  without  busi- 
ness, and  hardening  myself  against  the  thought  of  any  danger 
I  might  incur,  went  from  Bagdad  to  Bussorah  with  the  richest 
commodities  of  the  country.     There  I  embarked  again  with 


24  TEE  STORY  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR, 

some  merchants.  We  made  a  long  voyage,  and  touched  at 
several  ports,  where  we  carried  on  a  considerable-  trade.  One 
day,  being  out  in  the  main  ocean,  we  were  overtaken  by  a 
dreadful  tempest,  which  drove  us  from  our  course.  The  tem- 
pest continued  several  days,  and  brought  us  before  the  port  of 
an  island,  which  the  captain  was  very  unwilling  to  enter ;  but 
we  were  obliged  to  cast  anchor.  When  we  had  furled  our 
sails,  the  captain  told  us,  that  this,  and  some  other  neighbor- 
ing islands,  were  inhabited  by  hairy  savages,  who  would 
speedily  attack  us;  and,  though  they  were  but  dwarfs,  yet 
our  misfortune  was  such,  that  we  must  make  no  resistance, 
for  they  were  more  in  number  than  the  locusts;  and  if  we 
happened  to  kill  one  of  them,  they  would  all  fall  upon  us  and 
destroy  us. 

"This  account  of  the  captain  put  the  whole  company  into 
great  consternation,  and  we  soon  found  that  what  he  had  told 
us  was  but  too  true;  an  innumerable  multitude  of  frightful 
savages,  about  two  feet  high,  covered  all  over  with  red  hair, 
came  swimming  towards  us,  and  encompassed  our  ship.  They 
spoke  to  us  as  they  came  near,  but  we  understood  not  their 
language;  they  climbed  up  the  sides  of  the  ship  with  such 
agility  as  surprised  us.  We  beheld  all  this  with  dread,  but 
without  daring  to  defend  ourselves,  or  to  divert  them  from 
their  mischievous  design.  In  short,  they  took  down  our  sails, 
cut  the  cable,  and  hauling  to  the  shore,  made  us  all  get  out, 
and  afterwards  carried  the  ship  into  another  island,  from 
whence  they  had  come.  All  voyagers  carefully  avoided  the 
island  where  they  left  us,  it  being  very  dangerous  to  stay 
there,  for  a  reason  you  shall  presently  hear;  but  we  were 
forced  to  bear  our  affliction  with  patience. 

"  We  went  forward  into  the  island,  where  we  gathered  some 
fruits  and  herbs  to  prolong  our  lives  as  long  as  we  could;  but 
we  expected  nothing  but  death.     As  we  advanced,  we  per- 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  25 

ceived  at  a  distance  a  vast  pile  of  building,  and  made  towards 
it.  We  found  it  to  be  a  palace,  elegantly  built,  and  very 
lofty,  with  a  gate  of  ebony  of  two  leaves,  which  we  forced 
open.  We  entered  the  court,  where  we  saw  before  us  a  large 
apartment,  with  a  porch,  having  on  one  side  a  heap  of  human 
bones,  and  on  the  other  a  vast  number  of  roasting  spits.  We 
trembled  at  this  spectacle,  and  being  fatigued  with  travelling, 
fell  to  the  ground,  seized  with  deadly  apprehension,  and  lay 
a  long  time  motionless. 

"  The  sun  set,  and  whilst  we  were  in  the  lamentable  condition 
I  have  described,  the  gate  of  the  apartment  opened  with  a  loud 
crash,  and  there  came  out  the  horrible  figure  of  a  black  man, 
as  tall  as  a  lofty  palm-tree.  He  had  but  one  eye,  and  that  in 
the  middle  of  his  forehead,  where  it  looked  as  red  as  a  burn- 
ing coal.  His  fore-teeth  were  very  long  and  sharp,  and  stood 
out  of  his  mouth,  which  was  as  deep  as  that  of  a  horse.  His 
upper  lip  hung  down  upon  his  breast.  His  ears  resembled 
those  of  an  elephant,  and  covered  his  shoulders ;  and  his  nails 
were  as  long  and  crooked  as  the  talons  of  the  greatest  birds. 
At  the  sight  of  so  frightful  a  giant,  we  became  insensible, 
and  lay  like  dead  men. 

"  At  last  we  came  to  ourselves,  and  saw  him  sitting  in  the 
porch  looking  at  us.  When  he  had  considered  us  well,  he 
advanced  towards  us,  and  laying  his  hand  upon  me,  took  me 
up  by  the  nape  of  my  neck,  and  turned  me  round  as  a  butcher 
would  do  a  sheep's  head.  After  having  examined  me,  and  per- 
ceiving me  to  be  so  lean  that  I  had  nothing  but  skin  and  bone, 
he  let  me  go.  He  took  up  all  the  rest  one  by  one,  and 
viewed  them  in  the  same  manner.  The  captain  being  the 
fattest,  he  held  him  with  one  hand,  as  I  would  do  a  sparrow, 
and  thrust  a  spit  through  him;  he  then  kindled  a  great  fire, 
roasted,  and  ate  him  in  his  apartment  for  his  supper.  Hav- 
ing finished  his  repast,  he  returned  to  his  porch,  where  he  lay 


26  THE  STORY  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR. 

and  fell  asleep,  snoring  louder  than  thunder.  He  slept  thus 
till  morning.  As  to  ourselves,  it  was  not  possible  for  us  to 
enjoy  any  rest,  so  that  we  passed  the  night  in  the  most  pain- 
ful apprehension  that  can  be  imagined.  When  day  appeared 
the  giant  awoke,  got  up,  went  out,  and  left  us  in  the  palace. 

"  When  we  thought  him  at  a  distance,  we  broke  the  melan- 
choly silence  we  had  preserved  the  whole  of  the  night,  and  filled 
the  palace  with  our  lamentations  and  groans.  Though  we 
were  several  in  numbers,  and  had  but  one  enemy,  it  never 
occurred  to  us  to  effect  our  deliverance  by  putting  him  to 
death.  This  enterprise,  however,  though  difficult  of  execu- 
tion, was  the  only  design  we  ought  naturally  to  have  formed. 

"We  thought  of  several  other  expedients,  but  determined 
upon  none ;  and  submitting  ourselves  to  what  it  should  please 
God  to  order  concerning  us,  we  spent  the  day  in  traversing 
the  island,  supporting  ourselves  with  fruits  and  herbs  as  we 
had  done  the  day  before.  In  the  evening  we  sought  for  some 
place  of  shelter,  but  found  none;  so  that  we  were  forced, 
whether  we  would  or  not,  to  return  to  the  palace. 

"  The  giant  failed  not  to  return,  and  supped  once  more  upon 
one  of  our  companions,  after  which  he  slept,  and  snored  till 
day,  and  then  went  out  and  left  us  as  before.  Our  situation 
appeared  to  us  so  dreadful,  that  several .  of  my  comrades 
designed  to  throw  themselves  into  the  sea,  rather  than  die  so 
painful  a  death;  and  endeavored  to  persuade  the  others  to 
follow  their  example.  Upon  which  one  of  the  company 
answered  that  we  were  forbidden  to  destroy  ourselves;  but 
even  if  that  were  not  the  case,  it  was  much  more  reasonable 
to  devise  some  method  to  rid  ourselves  of  the  monster  who 
had  destined  us  to  so  horrible  a  fate. 

"  Having  thought  of  a  project  for  this  purpose,  I  communi- 
cated it  to  my  comrades,  who  approved  it.  'Brethren,'  said 
I,  'you  know  there  is  much  timber  floating  upon  the  coast;  if 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  27 

you  will  be  advised  by  me,  let  us  make  several  rafts  capable 
of  bearing  us,  and  when  they  are  done,  leave  them  there  till 
we  find  it  convenient  to  use  them.  In  the  meantime,  we 
will  carry  into  execution  the  design  I  proposed  to  you  for  our 
deliverance  from  the  giant,  and  if  it  succeed,  we  may  remain 
here  patiently  awaiting  the  arrival  of  some  ship  to  carry  us 
out  of  this  fatal  island;  but  if  it  happen  to  miscarry,  we  will 
take  to  our  rafts,  and  put  to  sea.  I  admit  that  by  exposing 
ourselves  to  the  fury  of  the  waves,  we  run  a  risk  of  losing  our 
lives;  but  is  it  not  better  to  be  buried  in  the  sea  than  in  the 
entrails  of  this  monster,  who  has  already  devoured  two  of  our 
number? '  My  advice  was  approved,  and  we  made  rafts  capa- 
ble of  carrying  three  persons  on  each. 

"We  returned  to  the  palace  towards  the  evening,  and  the 
giant  arrived  shortly  after.  We  were  forced  to  submit  to  see- 
ing another  of  our  comrades  roasted.  But  at  last  we  revenged 
ourselves  on  the  brutish  giant  in  the  following  manner.  After 
he  had  finished  his  cursed  supper,  he  lay  down  on  his  back 
and  fell  asleep.  As  soon  as  we  heard  him  snore,  according  to 
his  custom,  nine  of  the  boldest  among  us,  and  myself,  took 
each  of  us  a  spit,  and  putting  the  points  of  them  into  the  fire 
till  they  were  burning  hot,  we  thrust  them  into  his  eye  all  at 
once,  and  blinded  him.  The  pain  made  him  break  out  into  a 
frightful  yell :  he  started  up  and  stretched  out  his  hands,  in 
order  to  sacrifice  some  of  us  to  his  rage ;  but  we  ran  to  such 
places  as  he  could  not  reach  ;  and  after  having  sought  for  us  in 
vain,  he  groped  for  the  gate,  and  went  out,  howling  in  agony. 
We  quitted  the  palace  after  the  giant  and  came  to  the  shore, 
where  we  had  left  our  rafts,  and  put  them  immediately  to 
sea.  We  waited  till  day,  in  order  to  get  upon  them,  in  case 
the  giant  should  come  towards  us  with  any  guide  of  his  own 
species^,  but  we  hoped  if  he  did  not  appear  by  sun-rising,  and 
gave  over  his  howling,  which  we  still  heard,  that  he  would 


28  THE  STORY  OF  SINE  AD  THE  8AIL0B, 

prove  to  be  dead;  and  if  that  happened  to  be  the  case,  we 
resolved  to  stay  in  that  island,  and  not  to  risk  our  lives  upon 
the  rafts ;  but  day  had  scarcely  appeared,  when  we  perceived 
our  cruel  enemy,  accompanied  with  two  others  almost  of  the 
same  size,  leading  him;  and  a  great  number  more  coming 
before  him  at  a  quick  pace. 

"  We  did  not  hesitate  to  take  to  our  rafts,  and  put  to  sea  with 
all  the  speed  we  could.  The  giants,  who  perceived  this,  took 
up  great  stones,  and  running  to  the  shore,  entered  the  water 
up  to  the  middle,  and  threw  so  exactly,  that  they  sunk  all  the 
rafts  but  that  I  was  upon ;  and  all  my  companions,  except  the 
two  with  me,  were  drowned.  We  rowed  with  all  our  might, 
and  got  out  of  the  reach  of  the  giants.  But  when  we  got  out 
to  sea,  we  were  exposed  to  the  mercy  of  the  waves  and  winds, 
and  tossed  about,  sometimes  on  one  side,  and  sometimes  on 
another,  and  spent  that  night  and  the  following  day  under 
the  most  painful  uncertainty  as  to  our  fate;  but  next  morning 
we  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  thrown  upon  an  island,  where 
we  landed  with  much  joy.  We  found  excellent  fruit,  which 
afforded  us  great  relief,  and  recruited  our  strength. 

"At  night  we  went  to  sleep  on  the  sea-shore;  but  were 
awakened  by  the  noise  of  a  serpent  of  surprising  length  and 
thickness,  whose  scales  made  a  rustling  noise  as  he  wound 
himself  along.  It  swallowed  up  one  of  my  comrades,  not- 
withstanding his  loud  cries,  and  the  efforts  he  made  to  extri- 
cate himself  from  it;  dashing  him  several  times  against  the 
ground,  it  crushed  him,  and  we  could  hear  it  gnaw  and  tear 
the  poor  wretch's  bones,  though  we  had  fled  to  a  considerable 
distance.  The  following  day,  to  our  great  terror,  we  saw  the 
serpent  again,  when  I  exclaimed,  '0  Heaven,  to  what  dangers 
are  we  exposed!  We  rejoiced  yesterday  at  having  escaped 
from  the  cruelty  of  a  giant  and  the  rage  of  the  waves ;  now  are 
we  fallen  into  another  danger  equally  dreadful.' 


The  Serpent  came  to  the  Foot  of  the  Tr] 
Drawn  by  Ernest  Fosbery. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  29 

"  As  we  walked  about,  we  saw  a  large  tall  tree,  upon  which 
we  designed  to  pass  the  following  night,  for  our  security  j 
and  having  satisfied  our  hunger  with  fruit,  we  mounted  it 
accordingly.  Shortly  after,  the  serpent  came  hissing  to  the 
foot  of  the  tree ;  raised  itself  up  against  the  trunk  of  it,  and 
meeting  with  my  comrade,  who  sat  lower  than  I,  swallowed 
him  at  once  and  went  off. 

"  I  remained  upon  the  tree  till  it  was  day,  and  then  came 
down,  more  like  a  dead  man  than  one  alive,  expecting  the 
same  fate  with  my  two  companions.  This  filled  me  with 
horror,  and  I  advanced  some  steps  to  throw  myself  into  the 
sea;  but  the  natural  love  of  life  prompting  us  to  prolong  it  as 
long  as  we  can,  I  withstood  this  dictate  of  despair,  and  sub- 
mitted myself  to  the  will  of  God,  who  disposes  of  our  lives  at 
his  pleasure. 

"  In  the  meantime  I  collected  together  a  great  quantity  of 
small  wood,  brambles,  and  dry  thorns,  and  making  them  up 
into  faggots,  made  a  wide  circle  with  them  round  the  tree, 
and  also  tied  some  of  them  to  the  branches  over  my  head. 
Having  done  this,  when  the  evening  came,  I  shut  myself  up 
within  this  circle,  with  the  melancholy  satisfaction,  that  I 
had  neglected  nothing  which  could  preserve  me  from  the  cruel 
destiny  with  which  I  was  threatened.  The  serpent  failed  not 
to  come  at  the  usual  hour,  and  went  round  the  tree,  seeking 
for  an  opportunity  to  devour  me,  but  was  prevented  by  the 
rampart  I  had  made;  so  that  he  lay  till  day,  like  a  cat  watch- 
ing in  vain  for  a  mouse  that  has  fortunately  reached  a  place 
of  safety.  When  day  appeared,  he  retired,  but  I  dared  not  to 
leave  my  fort  until  the  sun  arose. 

"  I  felt  so  much  fatigued  by  the  labor  to  which  it  had  put 
me,  and  suffered  so  much  from  his  poisonous  breath,  that 
death  seemed  more  eligible  to  me  than  the  horrors  of  such  a 
state.     I  came  down  from  the  tree,  and,  not  thinking  of  the 


30  THE  STORY  OF  SINBAD   THE  SAILOR. 

resignation  I  had  the  preceding  day  resolved  to  exercise,  I 
ran  towards  the  sea,  with  a  design  to  throw  myself  into  it. 
But  God  took  compassion  on  my  hopeless  state;  for  just  as  I 
was  going  to  throw  myself  into  the  sea,  I  perceived  a  ship  at 
a  considerable  distance.  I  called  as  loud  as  I  could,  and 
taking  the  linen  from  my  turban,  displayed  it,  that  they  might 
observe  me.  "  This  had  the  desired  effect;  the  crew  perceived 
me,  and  the  captain  sent  his  boat  for  me.  As  soon  as  I  came 
on  board,  the  merchants  and  seamen  flocked  about  me,  to 
know  how  I  came  into  that  desert  island;  and  after  I  had 
related  to  them  all  that  had  befallen  me,  the  oldest  among 
them  said  to  me  they  had  several  times  heard  of  the  giants 
that  dwelt  in  that  island,  that  they  were  cannibals,  and  ate 
men  raw  as  well  as  roasted;  and  as  to  the  serpents,  they 
added,  that  there  were  abundance  in  the  island,  that  hid 
themselves  by  day  and  came  abroad  by  night.  After  having 
testified  their  joy  at  my  escaping  so  many  dangers,  they 
brought  me  the  best  of  their  provisions;  and  the  captain,  see- 
ing that  I  was  in  rags,  was  so  generous  as  to  give  me  one  of 
his  own  suits.  We  continued  at  sea  for  some  time,  touched 
at  several  islands,  and  at  last,  landed  at  that  of  Salabat, 
where  sandal  wood  is  obtained,  which  is  of  great  use  in 
medicine.  We  entered  the  port  and  came  to  anchor.  The 
merchants  began  to  unload  their  goods,  in  order  to  sell  or 
exchange  them.  In  the  meantime,  the  captain  came  to  me, 
and  said,  'Brother,  I  have  here  some  goods  that  belonged  to  a 
merchant  who  sailed  some  time  on  board  this  ship,  and  he 
being  dead,  I  design  to  dispose  of  them  for  the  benefit  of  his 
heirs,  when  I  find  who  they  are.'  The  bales  he  spoke  of  lay 
on  the 'deck,  and  showing  them  to  me,  he  said,  'There  are  the 
goods;  I  hope  you  will  take. care  to  sell  them,  and  you  shall 
have  factorage.'  I  thanked  him  for  thus  affording  me  an 
opportunity  of  employing  myself,  because  I  hated  to  be  idle. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  31 

"  The  clerk  of  the  ship  took  an  account  of  all  the  bales,  with 
the  names  of  the  merchants  to  whom  they  belonged.  And 
when  he  asked  the  captain  in  whose  name  he  should  enter  those 
he  had  given  me  the  charge  of:  *Enter  them,'  said  the  cap- 
tain, 'in  the  name  of  Sinbad/  I  could  not  hear  myself  named 
without  some  emotion ;  and  looking  steadfastly  on  the  captain, 
I  knew  him  to  be  the  person  who,  in  my  second  voyage,  had 
left  me  in  the  island  where  I  fell  asleep,  and  sailed  without 
me,  or  sending  to  see  for  me.  But  I  could  not  recollect  him 
at  first,  he  was  so  much  altered  since  I  had  seen  him. 

"  I  was  not  surprised  that  he,  believing  me  to  be  dead,  did 
not  recognize  me.  'Captain,'  said  I,  'was  the  merchant's 
name,  to  whom  these  bales  belonged,  Sinbad? '  'Yes, '  replied 
he,  'that  was  his  name;  he  came  from  Bagdad,  and  embarked 
on  board  my  ship  at  Bussorah.  One  day,  when  we  landed  at 
an  island  to  take  in  water  and  other  refreshments,  I  know  not 
by  what  •  mistake,  I  sailed  without  observing  that  he  did  not 
re-embark  with  us ;  neither  I  nor  the  merchants  perceived  it 
till  four  hours  after.  We  had  the  wind  in  our  stern,  and  so 
fresh  a  gale,  that  it  was  not  then  possible  for  us  to  tack  about 
for  him.'  'You  believe  him  then  to  be  dead? '  said  I.  'Cer- 
tainly,' answered  he.  'No,  captain,'  I  resumed,  'look  at  me, 
and  you  may  know  that  I  am  Sinbad,  whom  you  left  in  that 
desert  island.' 

"The  captain, having  considered  me  attentively,  recognized 
me.  'God  be  praised,'  said  he,  embracing  me,  'I  rejoice  that 
fortune  has  rectified  my  fault.  There  are  your  goods,  which 
I  always  took  care  to  preserve.'  I  took  them  from  him,  and 
made  him  the  acknowledgments  to  which  he  was  entitled. 

"  From  the  isle  of  Salabat,  we  went  to  another  where  I  fur- 
nished myself  with  cloves,  cinnamon,  and  other  spices.  As 
we  sailed  from  this  island,  we  saw  a  tortoise  twenty  cubits  in 
length  and  breadth.     We  observed  also  an  amphibious  animal 


32  THE  STORY  OF  SIN  BAB   THE  SAILOR. 

like  a  cow,  which  gave  milk;  its  skin  is  so  hard  that  they 
usually  make  bucklers  of  it.  I  saw  another,  which  had  the 
shape  and  color  of  a  camel. 

"  In  short,  after  a  long  voyage  I  arrived  at  Bussorah  and 
from  thence  returned  to  Bagdad,  with  so  much  wealth  that 
I  knew  not  its  extent.  I  gave  a  great  deal  to  the  poor,  and 
bought  another  considerable  estate  in  addition  to  what  I  had 
already." 

Thus  Sinbad  finished  the  history  of  his  third  voyage;  gave 
another  hundred  sequins  to  Hinbad,  invited  him  to  dinner  again 
the  next  day  to  hear  the  story  of  his  fourth  voyage.  Hinbad 
and  the  company  retired;  and  on  the  following  day,  when 
they  returned,  Sinbad  after  dinner  continued  the  relation  of 
his  adventures. 

THE  FOURTH   VOYAGE. 

"  The  pleasures  and  amusements  which  I  enjoyed  after  my 
third  voyage  had  not  charms  sufficient  to  divert  me  from 
another.  My  passion  for  trade,  and  my  love  of  novelty,  again 
prevailed.  I  therefore  settled  my  affairs,  and  having  provided 
a  stock  of  goods  fit  for  the  traffic  I  designed  to  engage  in,  I 
set  out  on  my  journey.  I  took  the  route  of  Persia,  travelled 
over  several  provinces,  and  then  arrived  at  a  port,  where  I 
embarked.  We  hoisted  our  sails,  and  touched  at  several  ports 
of  the  continent,  and  some  of  the  eastern  islands,  and  put 
out  to  sea:  we  were  overtaken  by  such  a  sudden  gust  of  wind, 
as  obliged  the  captain  to  lower  his  yards,  and  take  all  other 
necessary  precautions  to  prevent  the  danger  that  threatened 
us.  But  all  was  in  vain;  our  endeavors  had  no  effect,  the 
sails  were  split  in  a  thousand  pieces,  and  the  ship  was  stranded; 
several  of  the  merchants  and  seamen  were  drowned,  and  the 
cargo  was  lost. 

"  I  had  the  good  fortune,  with  several  of  the  merchants  and 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  33 

mariners,  to  get  upon  some  planks,  and  we  were  carried  by 
the  current  to  an  island  which  lay  before  us.  There  we  found 
fruit  and  spring  water,  which  preserved  our  lives.  We  stayed 
all  night  near  the  place  where  we  had  been  cast  ashore,  with- 
out consulting  what  we  should  do;  our  misfortune  had  so 
much  dispirited  us  that  we  could  not  deliberate. 

"Next  morning,  as  soon  as  the  sun  was  up,  we  walked  from 
the  shore,  and  advancing  into  the  island,  saw  some  houses, 
which  we  approached.  As  soon  as  we  drew  near,  we  were 
encompassed  by  a  great  number  of  negroes,  who  seized  us, 
shared  us  among  them,  and  carried  us  to  their  respective 
habitations. 

"  I,  and  five  of  my  comrades,  were  carried  to  one  place ;  here 
they  made  us  sit  down,  and  gave  us  a  certain  herb,  which  they 
made  signs  to  us  to  eat.  My  comrades  not  taking  notice  that 
the  blacks  ate  none  of  it  themselves,  thought  only  of  satisfy- 
ing their  hunger,  and  ate  with  greediness.  But  I,  suspecting 
some  trick,  would  not  so  much  as  taste  it,  which  happened 
well  for  me ;  for  in  a  little  time  after,  I  perceived  my  com- 
panions had  lost  their  senses,  and  that  when  they  spoke  to 
me,  they  knew  not  what  they  said. 

"  The  negroes  fed  us  afterwards  with  rice,  prepared  with  oil 
of  cocoa-nuts;  and  my  comrades,  who  had  lost  their  reason, 
ate  of  it  greedily.  I  also  partook  of  it,  but  very  sparingly. 
They  gave  us  that  herb  at  first  on  purpose  to  deprive  us  of  our 
senses,  that  we  might  not  be  aware  of  the  sad  destiny  prepared 
for  us ;  and  they  supplied  us  with  rice  to  fatten  us ;  for,  being 
cannibals,  their  design  was  to  eat  us  as  soon  as  we  grew  fat. 
This  accordingly  happened,  for  they  devoured  my  comrades, 
who  were  not  sensible  of  their  condition;  but  my  senses  being 
entire,  you  may  easily  guess  that  instead  of  growing  fat,  as 
the  rest  did,  I  grew  leaner  every  day.  The  fear  of  death 
under  which  I  labored,  turned  all  my  food  into  poison.     I  fell 


34  THE  STORY  OF  SIN  BAD   THE  SAILOR. 

into  a  languishing  distemper,  which  proved  my  safety ;  for  the 
negroes,  having  killed  and  eaten  my  companions,  seeing  me  to 
be  withered,  lean,  and  sick,  deferred  my  death. 

"  Meanwhile  I  had  much  liberty,  so  that  scarcely  any  notice 
was  taken  of  what  I  did,  and  this  gave  me  an  opportunity  one 
day  to  get  at  a  distance  from  the  houses,  and  to  make  my 
escape.  An  old  man,  who  saw  me,  and  suspected  my  design, 
called  to  me  as  loud  as  he  could  to  return;  but  instead  of 
obeying  him,  I  redoubled  my  speed,  and  quickly  got  out  of 
sight.  At  that  time  there  was  none  but  the  old  man  about 
the  houses,  the  rest  being  abroad,  and  not  to  return  till  night, 
which  was  usual  with  them.  Therefore,  being  sure  that  they 
could  not  arrive  time  enough  to  pursue  me,  I  went  on  till 
night,  when  I  stopped  to  rest  a  little,  and  to  eat  some  of  the 
provisions  I  had  secured;  but  I  speedily  set  forward  again, 
and  travelled  seven  days,  avoiding  those  places  which  seemed 
to  be  inhabited,  and  lived  for  the  most  part  upon  cocoa-nuts, 
which  served  me  both  for  meat  and  drink.  On  the  eighth  day 
I  came  near  the  sea,  and  saw  some  white  people  like  myself, 
gathering  pepper,  of  which  there  was  great  plenty  in  that 
place.  This  I  took  to  be  a  good  omen,  and  went  to  them 
without  any  scruple. 

"  They  came  to  meet  me  as  soon  as  they  saw  me,  and  asked 
me  in  Arabic  who  I  was,  and  whence  I  came.  I  was  over- 
joyed to  hear  them  speak  in  my  own  language,  and  satisfied 
their  curiosity,  by  giving  them  an  account  of  my  shipwreck, 
and  how  I  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  negroes.  'Those  negroes,' 
replied  they,  'eat  men,  and  by  what  miracle  did  you  escape 
their  cruelty? '  I  related  to  them  the  circumstances  I  have 
just  mentioned,  at  which  they  were  wonderfully  surprised. 

"  I  stayed  with  them  till  they  had  gathered  their  quantity  of 
pepper,  and  then  sailed  with  them  to  the  island  from  whence 
they  had  come.     They  presented  me  to  their  king,  who  was 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  85 

a  good  prince.  He  had  the  patience  to  hear  the  relation  of 
my  adventures,  which  surprised  him;  and  he  afterwards  gave 
me  clothes,  and  commanded  care  to  be  taken  of  me. 

"The  island  was  very  well  peopled,  plentiful  in  every- 
thing, and  the  capital  a  place  of  great  trade.  This  agreeable 
retreat  was  very  comfortable  to  me  after  my  misfortunes,  and 
the  kindness  of  this  generous  prince  completed  my  satisfac- 
tion. In  a  word,  there  was  not  a  person  more  in  favor  with 
him  than  myself;  and,  consequently,  every  man  in  court  and 
city  sought  to  oblige  me;  so  that  in  a  very  little  time  I  was 
looked  upon  rather  as  a  native  than  a  stranger. 

"  I  observed  one  thing,  which  to  me  appeared  very  extraor- 
dinary. All  the  people,  the  king  himself  not  excepted,  rode 
their  horses  without  bridle  or  stirrups.  This  made  me  one 
day  take  the  liberty  to  ask  the  king  how  it  came  to  pass.  His 
majesty  answered  that  I  talked  to  him  of  things  which  nobody 
knew  the  use  of  in  his  dominions. 

"  I  went  immediately  to  a  workman,  and  gave  him  a  model 
for  making  the  stock  of  a  saddle.  When  that  was  done,  I 
covered  it  myself  with  velvet  and  leather,  and  embroidered  it 
with  gold.  I  afterwards  went  to  a  smith,  who  made  me  a  bit, 
according  to  the  pattern  I  showed  him,  and  also  some  stirrups. 
When  I  had  all  things  completed  I  presented  them  to  the 
king,  and  put  them  upon  one  of  his  horses.  His  majesty 
mounted  immediately,  and  was  so  pleased  with  them,  that  he 
testified  his  satisfaction  by  large  presents.  I  could  not  avoid 
making  several  others  for  the  ministers  and  principal  officers 
of  his  household,  who  all  of  them  made  me  presents  that 
enriched  me  in  a  little  time.  I  also  made  some  for  the  people 
of  best  quality  in  the  city,  which  gained  me  great  reputation 
and  regard. 

"  As  I  paid  my  court  very  constantly  to  the  king,  he  said 
to  me  one  day,  *Sinbad,  I  love  thee:   and  all   my  subjects 


36  THE  STORY  OF  SIN  BAD   THE  SAILOR. 

who  know  thee,  treat  thee  according  to  my  example.  I  have 
one  thing  to  demand  of  thee,  which  thou  must  grant.'  'Sir,' 
answered  I,  ^ there  is  nothing  but  I  will  do,  as  a  mark  of 
obedience  to  your  majesty,  whose  power  over  me  is  absolute. ' 
*I  have  a  mind  thou  shouldst  marry,'  replied  he,  *that  so 
thou  mayst  stay  in  my  dominions,  and  think  no  more  of  thy 
own  country.'  I  durst  not  resist  the  prince's  will,  and  he 
gave  me  one  of  the  ladies  of  his  court,  noble,  'beautiful,  and 
rich.  The  ceremonies  of  marriage  being  over,  I  went  and 
dwelt  with  my  wife,  and  for  some  time  we  lived  together  in 
perfect  harmony.  I  was  not,  however,  satisfied  with  my 
banishment,  therefore  designed  to  make  my  escape  the  first 
opportunity,  and  to  return  to  Bagdad;  which  my  present 
settlement,  how  advantageous  soever,  could  not  make  me 
forget. 

"  At  this  time  the  wife  of  one  of  my  neighbors,  with  whom 
I  had  contracted  a  very  strict  friendship,  fell  sick  and  died. 
I  went  to  see  and  comfort  him  in  his  affliction,  and  finding 
him  absorbed  in  sorrow,  I  said  to  him  as  soon  as  I  saw  him, 
*God  preserve  you,  and  grant  you  a  long  life.'  *Alas,' 
replied  he,  *how  do  you  think  I  should  obtain  the  favor  you 
wish  me?  I  have  not  above  an  hour  to  live.'  'Pray,'  said 
I,  'do  not  entertain  such  a  melancholy  thought;  I  hope  I 
shall  enjoy  your  company  many  years.'  'I  wish  you,'  he 
replied,  'a  long  life;  but  my  days  are  at  an  end,  for  I  must 
be  buried  this  day  with  my  wife.  This  is  a  law  which  our 
ancestors  established  in  this  island,  and  it  is  always  observed 
inviolably.  The  living  husband  is  interred  with  the  dead 
wife,  and  the  living  wife  with  the  dead  husband.  Nothing 
can  save  me;  every  one  must  submit  to  this  law.'  While  he 
was  giving  me  an  account  of  this  barbarous  custom,  the  very 
relation  of  which  chilled  my  blood,  his  kindred,  friends,  and 
neighbors  came  in  a  body  to  assist  at  the   funeral.     They 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  37 

dressed  the  corpse  of  the  woman  in  her  richest  apparel  and 
all  her  jewels,  as  if  it  had  been  her  wedding  day ;  then  they 
placed  her  on  an  open  coffin,  and  began  their  march  to  the 
place  of  burial.  The  husband  walked  at  the  head  of  the 
company,  and  followed  the  corpse.  They  proceeded  to  a 
high  mountain,  and  when  they  had  reached  the  place  of  their 
destination,  they  took  up  a  large  stone,  which  covered  the 
mouth  of  a  deep  pit,  and  let  down  the  corpse  with  all  its 
apparel  and  jewels.  Then  the  husband,  embracing  his  kin- 
dred and  friends,  suffered  himself  to  be  put  into  another  open 
coffin,  without  resistance,  with  a  pot  of  water  and  seven  small 
loaves,  and  was  let  down  in  the  same  manner.  The  moun- 
tain was  of  considerable  length,  and  extended  along  the 
sea-shore,  and  the  pit  was  very  deep.  The  ceremony  being 
over,  the  aperture  was  again  covered  with  the  stone,  and  the 
company  returned. 

"It  is  needless  for  me  to  tell  you  that  I  was  a  most 
melancholy  spectator  of  this  funeral,  while  the  rest  were 
scarcely  moved,  the  custom  was  to  them  so  familiar.  I  could 
not  forbear  communicating  to  the  king  my  sentiment  respect- 
ing the  practice.  ^Sir,'  I  said,  'I  cannot  but  feel  astonished 
at  the  strange  usage  observed  in  this  country,  of  burying  the 
living  with  the  dead.  I  have  been  a  great  traveller,  and 
seen  many  countries,  but  never  heard  of  so  cruel  a  law.' 
'What  do  you  mean,  Sinbad?'  replied  the  king;  'it  is  a 
common  law.  I  shall  be  interred  with  the  queen,  my  wife,  if 
she  die  first.'  '  But  sir,'  said  I,  'may  I  presume  to  ask  your 
majesty  if  strangers  be  obliged  to  observe  this  law?  '  '  With- 
out doubt,'  returned  the  king,  smiling  at  the  occasion  of  my 
question,  'they  are  not  exempted,  if  they  be  married  in  this 
island. ' 

"I  returned  home  much  depressed  by  this  answer;  for  the 
fear  of  my  wife's  dying  first,  and  that  I  should  be  interred 


38  THE  STORY  OF  SIN  BAD   THE  SAILOR, 

alive  with  her,  occasioned  me  very  uneasy  reflections.  But 
there  was  no  remedy;  I  must  have  patience  and  submit  to  the 
will  of  God.  I  trembled,  however,  at  every  little  indisposi- 
tion of  my  wife :  alas !  in  a  little  time  my  fears  were  realized, 
for  she  fell  sick  and  died. 

"Judge  my  sorrow:  to  be  interred  alive  seemed  to  me  as 
deplorable  a  termination  of  life  as  to  be  devoured  by  canni- 
bals. It  was  necessary,  however,  to  submit.  The  king  and 
all  his  court  expressed  their  wish  to  honor  the  funeral  with 
their  presence,  and  the  most  considerable  people  of  the  city 
did  the  same.  When  all  was  ready  for  the  ceremony,  the 
corpse  was  put  into  a  coffin  with  all  her  jewels  and  her  most 
magnificent  apparel.  The  procession  began,  and  as  second 
actor  in  this  doleful  tragedy,  I  went  next  the  corpse,  with 
my  eyes  full  of  tears,  bewailing  my  deplorable  fate.  Before 
we  reached  the  mountain,  I  made  an  attempt  to  affect  the 
minds  of  the  spectators :  I  addressed  myself  to  the  king  first, 
and  then  to  all  those  that  were  round  me;  bowing  before 
them  to  the  earth,  and  kissing  the  border  of  their  garments, 
I  prayed  them  to  have  compassion  upon  me.  ^Consider,'  said 
I,  ^  that  I  am  a  stranger,  and  ought  not  to  be  subject  to  this 
rigorous  law,  and  that  I  have  another  wife  and  children  in 
my  own  country.'  Although  I  spoke  in  the  most  pathetic 
manner,  no  one  was  moved  by  my  address;  on  the  contrary, 
they  ridiculed  my  dread  of  death  as  cowardly,  made  haste  to 
let  my  wife's  corpse  into  the  pit,  and  lowered  me  down  the 
next  moment  in  an  open  coffin,  with  a  vessel  full  of  water  and 
seven  loaves.  In  short,  the  fatal  ceremony  being  performed, 
they  covered  over  the  mouth  of  the  pit,  notwithstanding  my 
grief  and  piteous  lamentations. 

"As  I  approached  the  bottom,  I  discovered  by  the  aid  of 
the  little  light  that  came  from  above,  the  nature  of  this 
subterranean  place;  it  seemed  an  endless  cavern,  and  might 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  39 

be  about  fifty  fathom  deep.  I  was  annoyed  by  an  insuffer- 
able stench,  proceeding  from  the  multitude  of  bodies  which  I 
saw  on  the  right  and  left;  nay,  I  fancied  that  I  heard  some 
of  them  sigh  out  their  last.  However,  when  I  got  down,  I 
immediately  left  my  coffin,  and  getting  at  a  distance  from  the 
bodies,  held  my  nose,  and  lay  down  upon  the  ground,  where 
I  stayed  a  considerable  time,  bathed  in  tears.  At  last, 
reflecting  on  my  melancholy  case,  'It  is  true,'  said  I,  'that 
God  disposes  all  things  according  to  the  decrees  of  his  provi- 
dence; but  unhappy  Sinbad,  hast  thou  any  but  thyself  to 
blame  that  thou  art  brought  to  die  so  strange  a  death? 
Would  to  God  thou  hadst  perished  in  some  of  those  tempests 
which  thou  hast  escaped!  Then  thy  death  had  not  been  so 
lingering,  and  so  terrible  in  all  its  circumstances.  But  thou 
hast  drawn  all  this  upon  thyself  by  thy  inordinate  avarice. 
Ah,  unfortunate  wretch!  shouldst  thou  not  rather  have 
remained  at  home,  and  quietly  enjoyed  the  fruits  of  thy 
labor? ' 

"Such  were  the  vain  complaints  with  which  I  filled  the 
cave,  beating  my  head  and  breast  out  of  rage  and  despair,  and 
abandoning  myself  to  the  most  afflicting  thoughts.  Never- 
theless, I  must  tell  you,  that  instead  of  calling  death  to  my 
assistance  in  that  miserable  condition,  I  felt  still,  an  inclina- 
tion to  live,  and  to  do  all  I  could  to  prolong  my  days.  I 
went  groping  about,  with  my  nose  stopped,  for  the  bread  and 
water  that  was  in  my  coffin,  and  took  some  of  it.  Though 
the  darkness  of  the  cave  was  so  great  that  I  could  not  distin- 
guish day  and  night,  yet  I  always  found  my  coffin  again,  and 
the  cave  seemed  to  be  more  spacious  and  fuller  of  bodies  than 
it  had  appeared  to  be  at  first.  I  lived  for  some  days  upon 
my  bread  and  water,  which  being  all  spent,  I  at  last  prepared 
for  death. 

"As  I  was  thinking  of  death,  I  heard,  not  far  from  me, 


40  THE  STORY  OF  3INBAD  THE  SAILOR. 

something  tread,  and  breathing  or  panting  as  it  walked.  1 
advanced  towards  that  side  from  whence  I  heard  the  noise, 
and  on  my  approach  the  creature  puffed  and  blew  harder,  as 
if  running  away  from  me.  I  followed  the  noise,  and  the 
thing  seemed  to  stop  sometimes,  but  always  fled  and  blew  as 
I  approached.  I  pursued  it  for  a  considerable  time,  till  at 
last  I  perceived  a  light,  resembling  a  star;  I  went  on,  some- 
times lost  sight  of  it,  but  always  found  it  again,  and  at  last 
discovered  that  it  came  through  a  hole  in  the  rock,  large 
enough  to  admit  a  man. 

"Upon  this,  I  stopped  some  time  to  rest,  being  much 
fatigued  with  the  rapidity  of  my  progress :  afterwards  coming 
up  to  the  hole,  I  got  through,  and  found  myself  upon  the 
sea-shore.  I  leave  you  to  guess  the  excess  of  my  joy :  it  was 
such,  that  I  could  scarcely  persuade  myself  that  the  whole 
was  not  a  dream. 

"But  when  I  was  recovered  from  my  surprise,  and  con- 
vinced of  the  reality  of  my  escape,  I  perceived  what  I  had 
followed  to  be  a  creature  which  came  out  of  the  sea,  and  was 
accustomed  to  enter  the  cavern  and  feed  upon  the  bodies  of 
the  dead. 

"I  examined  the  mountain,  and  found  it  to  be  situated 
betwixt  the  sea  and  the  town,  but  without  any  passage  to,  or 
communication  with,  the  latter,  the  rocks  on  the  seaside 
being  high  and  perpendicularly  steep.  I  prostrated  myself 
on  the  shore  to  thank  God  for  this  mercy,  and  afterwards 
entered  the  cave  again  to  fetch  bread  and  water,  which  I  ate 
by  daylight  with  a  better  appetite  than  I  had  done  since  my 
interment  in  the  dark  cavern. 

"I  returned  thither  a  second  time,  and  groped  among  the 
coffins  for  all  the  diamonds,  rubies,  pearls,  gold  bracelets, 
and  rich  stuffs  I  could  find;  these  I  brought  to  the  shore, 
and  tying  them  up  neatly  into  bales,  with  the  cords  that  let 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  41 

down  the  coffins,  I  laid  them  together  upon  the  beach,  waiting 
till  some  ship  might  appear,  without  fear  of  rain,  for  it  was 
then  the  dry  season. 

^' After  two  or  three  days,  I  perceived  a  ship  just  coming 
out  of  the  harbor,  making  for  the  place  where  I  was.  I 
made  a  sign  with  the  linen  of  my  turban,  and  called  to  the 
crew  as  loud  as  I  could.  They  heard  me,  and  sent  a  boat 
to  bring  me  on  board,  where  they  asked  by  what  misfortune  I 
came  thither ;  I  told  them  that  I  had  suffered  shipwreck  two 
days  before,  and  made  shift  to  get  ashore  with  the  goods  they 
saw.  It  was  fortunate  for  me  that  these  people  did  not 
consider  the  place  where  I  was,  nor  inquire  into  the  proba- 
bility of  what  I  told  them ;  but  without  hesitation  took  me  on 
board  with  my  goods.  When  I  came  to  the  ship,  the  captain 
was  so  well  pleased  to  have  saved  me,  and  so  much  taken  up 
with  his  own  affairs,  that  he  also  took  the  story  of  my  pretended 
shipwreck  upon  trust,  and  generously  refused  some  jewels  which 
I  offered  him.  We  put  to  sea  again,  and  touched  at  several 
other  ports ;  at  last  I  arrived  happily  at  Bagdad  with  infinite 
riches,  of  which  it  is  needless  to  trouble  you  with  the  detail.'' 

Here  Sinbad  finished  the  relation  of  his  fourth  voyage,  and 
made  a  new  present  of  one  hundred  sequins  to  Hinbad,  whom 
he  requested  to  return  with  the  rest  next  day  at  the  same  hour 
to  dine  with  him,  and  heai:  the  story  of  his  fifth  voyage.  Hin- 
bad and  the  other  guests  took  their  leave  and  retired.  Next 
morning,  when  they  all  met,  they  sat  down  at  table,  and  when 
dinner  was  over,  Sinbad  began  the  relation  of  his  fifth  voyage, 
as  follows : 

THE   FIFTH  VOYAGE. 

"The  pleasures  I  enjoyed  had  again  charms  enough  to  make 
me  forget  all  the  troubles  and  calamities  I  had  undergone, 
but  could  not  cure  me  of  my  inclination  to  make  new  voyages. 
I  therefore  bought  goods,  departed  with  them  for  the  best 


42  THE  STORY  OF  SIN  BAD   THE  SAILOR. 

seaport,  and  there,  that  I  might  not  be  obliged  to  depend 
upon  a  captain,  but  have  a  ship  at  my  own  command,  I 
remained  till  one  was  built  on  purpose,  at  my  own  charge. 
When  the  ship  was  ready,  I  went  on  board  with  my  goods: 
but  not  having  enough  to  load  her,  I  agreed  to  take  with  me 
several  merchants  of  different  nations  with  their  merchandise. 

"  We  sailed  with  the  first  fair  wind,  and  after  a  long  navi- 
gation, the  first  place  we  touched  at  was  a  desert  island, 
where  we  found  an  egg  of  a  roc,  equal  in  size  to  that  I 
formerly  mentioned.  There  was  a  young  roc  in  it,  just  ready 
to  be  hatched,  and  its  bill  had  begun  to  appear. 

"  The  merchants  whom  I  had  taken  on  board,  and  who  landed 
with  me,  broke  the  egg  with  hatchets,  and  made  a  hole  in  it, 
pulled  out  the  young  roc  piecemeal,  and  roasted  it.  I  had 
earnestly  entreated  them  not  to  meddle  with  the  egg,  but  they 
would  not  listen  to  me. 

"Scarcely  had  they  finished  their  repast,  when  there 
appeared  in  the  air,  at  a  considerable  distance  from  us,  two 
great  clouds.  The  captain  whom  I  had  hired  to  navigate 
my  ship,  knowing  by  experience  what  they  meant,  said  they 
were  the  male  and  female  roc  that  belonged  to  the  young  one, 
and  pressed  us  to  re-embark  with  all  speed,  to  prevent  the 
misfortune  which  he  saw  would  otherwise  befall  us.  We 
hastened  on  board  and  set  sail  with  all  possible  expedition. 

"  In  the  meantime,  the  two  rocs  approached,  with  a  frightful 
noise,  which  they  redoubled  when  they  saw  the  egg  broken, 
and  their  young  one  gone.  They  flew  back  in  the  direction 
they  had  come,  and  disappeared  for  some  time,  while  we  made 
all  the  sail  we  could  to  endeavor  to  prevent  that  which 
unhappily  befell  us. 

"They  soon  returned,  and  we  observed  that  each  of  them 
carried  between  its  talons  stones,  or  rather  rocks,  of  a  mon- 
strous size.     When  they  came  directly  over  my  ship  they 


THE  UEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  43 

hovered,  and  one  of  them  let  fall  a  stone,  but  by  the  dex- 
terity of  the  steersman  it  missed  us,  and  falling  into  the  sea, 
divided  the  water  so  that  we  could  almost  see  the  bottom. 
The  other  roc,  to  our  misfortune,  threw  his  massy  burden  so 
exactly  into  the  middle  of  the  ship  as  to  split  it  into  a 
thousand  pieces.  The  mariners  and  passengers  were  all 
crushed  to  death,  or  sunk.  I  myself  was  of  the  number  of 
the  latter,  but  as  I  came  up  again,  I  fortunately  caught  hold 
of  a  piece  of  the  wreck,  and  swimming  sometimes  with  one 
hand,  and  sometimes  with  the  other,  but  always  holding  fast 
my  board,  the  wind  and  the  tide  favoring  me,  I  came  to  an 
island  whose  shore  was  very  steep.  I  overcame  that  diffi- 
culty, however,  and  got  ashore. 

''I  sat  down  upon  the  grass,  to  recover  myself  from  my 
fatigue,  after  which  I  went  into  the  island  to  explore  it.  It 
seemed  to  be  a  delicious  garden.  I  found  trees  everywhere, 
some  of  them  bearing  green,  and  others  ripe  fruits,  and 
streams  of  fresh,  pure  water  running  in  pleasant  meanders. 
I  ate  of  the  fruits,  which  I  found  excellent;  and  drank  of 
the  water,  which  was  very  light  and  good. 

"When  night  closed  in,  I  lay  down  upon  the  grass  in  a 
convenient  spot,  but  I  could  not  sleep  an  hour  at  a  time,  my 
mind  being  apprehensive  of  danger.  I  spent  the  best  part  of 
the  night  in  alarm,  and  reproached  myself  for  my  impru- 
dence in  not  remaining  at  home,  rather  than  undertaking  this 
last  voyage.  These  reflections  carried  me  so  far  that  I  began 
to  form  a  design  against  my  life;  but  daylight  dispersed 
these  melancholy  thoughts.  I  got  up,  and  walked  among  the 
trees,  but  not  without  some  fears. 

"When  I  was  a  little  advanced  into  the  island,  I  saw  an 
old  man,  who  appeared  very  weak  and  infirm.  He  was 
sitting  on  the  bank  of  a  stream,  and  at  first  I  took  him  to 
be   one   who    had  been   shipwrecked   like    myself.      I   went 


44  THE  STORY  OF  SINBAD   THE  SAILOB. 

towards  him  and  saluted  him,  but  he  only  slightly  bowed  his 
head.  I  asked  him  why  he  sat  so  still,  but  instead  of 
answering  me,  he  made  a  sign  for  me  to  take  him  upon  my 
back,  and  carry  him  over  the  brook,  signifying  that  it  was 
to  gather  fruit. 

"I  believed  him  really  to  stand  in  need  of  my  assistance, 
took  him  upon  my  back,  and  having  carried  him  over,  bade 
him  get  down,  and  for  that  end  stooped,  that  he  might  get  off 
with  ease;  but  instead  of  doing  so  (which  I  laugh  at  every 
time  I  think  of  it)  the  old  man,  who  to  me  appeared  quite 
decrepit,  clasped  his  legs  nimbly  about  my  neck,  when  I 
perceived  his  skin  to  resemble  that  of  a  cow.  He  sat  astride 
upon  my  shoulders,  and  held  my  throat  so  tight  that  I 
thought  he  would  have  strangled  me,  the  apprehension  of 
which  made  me  swoon  and  fall  down. 

"Notwithstanding  my  fainting,  the  ill-natured  old  fellow 
kept  fast  about  my  neck,  but  opened  his  legs  a  little  to  give 
me  time  to  recover  my  breath.  When  I  had  done  so,  he  thrust 
one  of  his  feet  against  my  stomach,  and  struck  me  so  rudely 
on  the  side  with  the  other,  that  he  forced  me  to  rise  up 
against  my  will.  Having  arisen,  he  made  me  walk  under 
the  trees,  and  forced  me  now  and  then  to  stop  to  gather  and 
eat  fruit  such  as  we  found.  He  never  left  me  all  day,  and 
when  I  lay  down  to  rest  at  night,  he  laid  himself  down  with 
me,  holding  always  fast  about  my  neck.  Every  morning  he 
pushed  me  to  make  me  awake,  and  afterwards  obliged  me  to 
get  up  and  walk,  and  pressed  me  with  his  feet.  You  may 
judge  then,  gentlemen,  what  trouble  I  was  in,  to  be  loaded 
with  such  a  burden  of  which  I  could  not  get  rid. 

"One  day  I  found  in  my  way  several  dry  calabashes  that 
had  fallen  from  a  tree.  I  took  a  large  one,  and  after  cleaning 
it,  pressed  into  it  some  juice  of  grapes,  which  abounded  in 
the   island.     Having  filled  the  calabash,  I  put  it  by  in  a 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  45 

convenient  place,  and  going  thither  again  some  days  after, 
I  tasted  it,  and  found  the  wine  so  good,  that  it  soon  made 
me  forget  my  sorrow,  gave  me  new  vigor,  and  so  exhilarated 
my  spirits  that  I  began  to  sing  and  dance  as  I  walked 
along. 

"The  old  man,  perceiving  the  effect  which  this  liquor  had 
upon  me,  and  that  I  carried  him  with  more  ease  than  before, 
made  me  a  sign  to  give  him  some  of  it.  I  handed  him  the 
calabash,  and  the  liquor  pleasing  his  palate,  he  drank  it  all 
off.  There  being  a  considerable  quantity  of  it,  he  became 
drunk  immediately,  and  the  fumes  getting  into  his  head,  he 
began  to  sing  after  his  manner,  and  to  dance  with  his  breech 
upon  my  shoulders.  His  jolting  made  him  vomit,  and  he 
loosened  his  legs  from  about  me  by  degrees.  Finding  that 
he  did  not  press  as  before,  I  threw  him  on  the  ground,  where 
he  lay  without  motion;  I  then  took  up  a  great  stone,  and 
crushed  his  head  to  pieces. 

"I  was  extremely  glad  to  be  thus  freed  forever  from  this 
troublesome  fellow.  I  now  walked  towards  the  beach,  where 
I  met  the  crew  of  a  ship  that  had  cast  anchor  to  take  water. 
They  were  surprised  to  see  me,  but  more  so  at  the  particulars 
of  my  adventures.  'You  fell,'  said  they,  'into  the  hands  of 
the  old  man  of  the  sea,  and  are  the  first  who  ever  escaped 
strangling  by  his  malicious  tricks.  He  never  quitted  those 
he  had  once  made  himself  master  of,  till  he  had  destroyed 
them,  and  he  has  made  this  island  notorious  by  the  number 
of  men  he  has  slain;  so  that  the  merchants  and  mariners 
who  landed  upon  it,  durst  not  advance  into  the  island  but  in 
numbers  at  a  time.' 

"After  having  informed  me  of  these  things,  they  carried 
me  with  them  to  the  ship;  the  captain  received  me  with 
great  kindness  when  they  told  him  what  had  befallen  me. 
He  put  out  again  to  sea,  and  after  some  days'  sail,  we  arrived 


46  THE  STORY  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR. 

at  the  harbor  of  a  great  city,  the  houses  of  wliich  were  built 
with  hewn  stone. 

"  One  of  the  merchants  who  had  taken  me  into  his  friend- 
ship, invited  me  to  go  along  with  him,  and  carried  me  to  a 
place  appointed  for  the  accommodation  of  foreign  merchants. 
He  gave  me  a  large  bag,  and  having  recommended  me  to 
some  people  of  the  town,  who  used  to  gather  cocoa-nuts, 
desired  them  to  take  me  with  them.  'Go,'  said  he,  'follow 
them,  and  act  as  you  see  them  do,  but  do  not  part  from  them, 
otherwise  you  may  endanger  your  life. '  Having  thus  spoken, 
he  gave  me  provisions  for  the  journey,  and  I  went  with  them. 

"  We  came  to  a  thick  forest  of  cocoa-trees,  very  lofty,  with 
trunks  so  smooth  that  it  was  not  possible  to  climb  to  the 
branches  that  bore  fruit.  When  we  entered  the  forest  we 
saw  a  great  number  of  apes  of  several  sizes,  who  fled  as  soon 
as  they  perceived  us,  and  climbed  up  to  the  top  of  the  trees 
with  surprising  swiftness. 

"The  merchants  gathered  stones,  and  threw  them  at  the 
apes  in  the  trees.  I  did  the  same,  and  the  apes  out  of 
revenge  threw  cocoa-nuts  at  us  so  fast,  and  with  such  ges- 
tures, as  sufficiently  testified  their  anger  and  resentment. 
We  gathered  up  the  cocoa-nuts,  and  from  time  to  time  threw 
stones  to  provoke  the  apes;  so  that  by  this  stratagem  we 
filled  our  bags  with  cocoa-nuts,  which  it  had  been  impossible 
otherwise  to  have  done. 

"When  we  had  gathered  our  number,  we  returned  to  the 
city,  where  the  merchant,  who  had  sent  me  to  the  forest, 
gave  me  the  value  of  the  cocoas  I  brought:  -Go  on,'  said  he, 
'and  do  the  like  every  day,  until  you  have  got  money  enough 
to  carry  you  home.'  I  thanked  him  for  his  advice,  and 
gradually  collected  as  many  cocoa-nuts  as  produced  me  a 
considerable  sum. 

"The  vessel  in  which  I  had  come  sailed  with  some  mer- 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  47 

chants,  who  loaded  her  with  cocoa-nuts.  I  expected  the 
arrival  of  another,  which  anchored  soon  after  for  the  like 
loading.  I  embarked  in  her  all  the  cocoa-nuts  I  had,  and. 
when  she  was  ready  to  sail,  took  leave  of  the  merchant  who 
had  been  so  kind  to  me ;  but  he  could  not  embark  with  me, 
because  he  had  not  finished  his  business  at  the  port. 

"  We  sailed  towards  the  islands  where  pepper  grows  in  great 
plenty.  From  thence  we  went  to  the  isle  of  Comari,  where 
the  best  species  of  wood  of  aloes  grows,  and  whose  inhabitants 
have  made  it  an  inviolable  law  to  themselves  to  drink  no 
wine,  and  suffer  no  place  of  debauch.  I  exchanged  my  cocoa 
in  those  two  islands  for  pepper  and  wood  of  aloes,  and  went 
with  other  merchants  a  pearl  fishing.  I  hired  divers,  who 
brought  me  up  some  that  were  very  large  and  pure.  I  em- 
barked in  a  vessel  that  happily  arrived  at  Bussorah;  from 
thence  I  returned  to  Bagdad,  where  I  made  vast  sums  of  my 
pepper,  wood  of  aloes,  and  pearls.  I  gave  the  tenth  of  my 
gains  in  alms,  as  I  had  done  upon  my  return  from  my  other 
voyages,  and  endeavored  to  dissipate  my  fatigues  by  amuse- 
ments of  different  kinds." 

When  Sinbad  had  finished  his  story,  he  ordered  one  hun- 
dred sequins  to  be  given  to  Hinbad,  who  retired  with  the 
other  guests ;  but  next  morning  the  same  company  returned 
to  dine  with  rich  Sinbad,  who,  after  having  treated  them  as 
formerly,  requested  their  attention,  and  gave  the  following 
account  of  his  sixth  voyage : 

THE   SIXTH   VOYAGE. 

"Gentlemen,  you  long  without  doubt  to  know,  how,  after 
having  been  shipwrecked  five  times,  and  escaped  so  many 
dangers,  I  could  resolve  again  to  tempt  fortune,  and  expose 
myself  to  new  hardships.     I  am,  myself,   astonished  at  my 


48  THE  STOBT  OF  SIN  BAD   THE  SAILOR. 

conduct  when  I  reflect  upon  it,  and  must  certainly  have  been 
actuated  by  my  destiny.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  after  a  year's 
rest  I  prepared  for  a  sixth  voyage,  notwithstanding  the  en- 
treaties of  my  kindred  and  friends,  who  did  all  in  their  power 
to  dissuade  me. 

"  Instead  of  taking  my  way  by  the  Persian  gulf,  I  travelled 
once  more  through  several  provinces  of  Persia  and  the  Indies, 
and  arrived  at  a  sea-port,  where  I  embarked  in  a  ship,  the 
captain  of  which  was  bound  on  a  long  voyage.  It  was  long 
indeed,  and  at  the  same  time  so  unfortunate,  that  the  captain 
and  pilot  lost  their  course.  They  however  at  last  discovered 
where  they  were,  but  we  had  no  reason  to  rejoice  at  the 
circumstance.  Suddenly  we  saw  the  captain  quit  his  post, 
uttering  loud  lamentations.  He  threw  off  his  turban,  pulled 
his  beard,  and  beat  his  head  like  a  madman.  We  asked  him 
the  reason,  and  he  answered  that  he  was  in  the  most  danger- 
ous place  in  all  the  ocean.  *A  rapid  current  carries  the  ship 
along  with  it,  and  we  shall  all  perish  in  less  than  a  quarter  of 
an  hour.  Pray  to  God  to  deliver  us  from  this  peril;  we  can- 
not escape,  if  he  do  not  take  pity  on  us.'  At  these  words  he 
ordered  the  sails  to  be  lowered;  but  all  the  ropes  broke,  and 
the  ship  was  carried  by  the  current  to  the  foot  of  an  inaccessi- 
ble mountain,  where  she  struck  and  went  to  pieces,  yet  in 
such  a  manner  that  we  saved  our  lives,  our  provisions,  and  the 
best  of  our  goods. 

"This  being  over,  the  captain  said  to  us,  *God  has  done 
what  pleased  him.  Each  of  us  may  dig  his  grave,  and  bid 
the  world  adieu ;  for  we  are  all  in  so  fatal  a  place  that  none 
shipwrecked  here  ever  returned  to  their  homes.'  His  dis- 
course ajfflicted  us  sensibly,  and  we  embraced  each  other, 
bewailing  our  deplorable  lot. 

"The  mountain,  at  the  foot  of  which  we  were  wrecked, 
formed  part  of  the  coast  of  a  very  large  island.     It  was  covered 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  49 

with  wrecks,  and  from  the  vast  number  of  human  bones  we  saw 
everywhere,  and  which  filled  us  with  horror,  we  concluded 
that  multitudes  of  people  had  perished  there.  It  is  also 
incredible  Avhat  a  quantity  of  goods  and  riches  we  found  cast 
ashore.  All  these  objects  served  only  to  augment  our  despair. 
In  all  other  places,  rivers  run  from  their  channels  into  the 
sea,  but  here  a  river  of  fresh  water  runs  out  of  the  sea  into  a 
dark  cavern,  whose  entrance  is  very  high  and  spacious.  What 
is  most  remarkable  in  this  place  is,  that  the  stones  of  the 
mountains  are  of  crystal,  rubies,  or  other  precious  stones. 
Here  is  also  a  sort  of  fountain  of  pitch  or  bitumen,  that  runs 
into  the  sea,  which  the  fish  swallow  and  void  soon  afterwards 
turned  into  ambergris;  and  this  the  waves  throw  up  on  the 
beach  in  great  quantities.  Trees  also  grow  here,  most  of  which 
are  wood  of  aloes,  equal  in  goodness  to  those  of  Comari. 

"  To  finish  the  description  of  this  place,  which  may  well  be 
called  a  gulf,  since  nothing  ever  returns  from  it,  it  is  not 
possible  for  ships  to  get  off  when  once  they  approach  within 
a  certain  distance.  If  they  be  driven  thither  by  a  wind  from 
the  sea,  the  wind  and  the  current  impel  them;  and  if  they 
come  into  it  when  a  land-wind  blows,  which  might  seem  to 
favor  their  getting  out  again,  the  height  of  the  mountain  stops 
the  wind,  and  occasions  a  calm,  so  that  the  force  of  the  cur- 
rent carries  them  ashore ;  and  what  completes  the  misfortune 
is,  that  there  is  no  possibility  of  ascending  the  mountain,  or 
of  escaping  by  sea. 

"We  continued  upon  the  shore  in  a  state  of  despair,  and 
expected  death  every  day.  At  first  we  divided  our  provisions 
as  equally  as  we  could,  and  thus  every  one  lived  a  longer  or 
shorter  time,  according  to  his  temperance,  and  the  use  he 
made  of  his  provisions. 

"  Those  who  died  first  were  interred  by  the  survivors,  and  I 
paid  the  last  duty  to  all  my  companions ;  nor  are  you  to  won- 


60  THE  STORY  OF  SINBAB   THE  SAILOR, 

der  at  this;  for  besides  that  I  husbanded  the  provisions  that 
fell  to  my  share  better  than  they,  I  had  some  of  my  own, 
which  I  did  not  share  with  my  comrades ;  yet  when  I  buried 
the  last,  I  had  so  little  remaining,  that  I  thought  I  could  not 
long  survive.  I  dug  a  grave,  resolving  to  lie  down  in  it, 
because  there  was  no  one  left  to  inter  me.  I  must  confess  to 
you  at  the  same  time,  that  while  I  was  thus  employed,  I  could 
not  but  reproach  myself  as  the  cause  of  my  own  ruin,  and 
repented  that  I  had  ever  undertaken  this  last  voyage.  Nor 
did  I  stop  at  reflections  only,  but  had  well-nigh  hastened  my 
own  death,  and  began  to  tear  my  hands  with  my  teeth. 

"  But  it  pleased  God  once  more  to  take  compassion  on  me, 
and  put  it  in  my  mind  to  go  to  the  bank  of  the  river  which 
ran  into  the  great  cavern.  Considering  its  probable  course 
with  great  attention,  I  said  to  myself,  'This  river,  which  runs 
thus  under  ground,  must  somewhere  have  an  issue.  If  I  make 
a  raft,  and  leave  myself  to  the  current,  it  will  convey  me  to 
some  inhabited  country,  or  I  shall  perish.  If  I  be  drowned  I 
lose  nothing,  but  only  change  one  kind  of  death  for  another; 
and  if  I  get  out  of  this  fatal  place,  I  shall  not  only  avoid  the 
sad  fate  of  my  comrades,  but  perhaps  find  some  new  occasion 
of  enriching  myself.  Who  knows  but  fortune  waits,  upon 
my  getting  off  this  dangerous  shelf,  to  compensate  my  ship- 
wreck with  usury  ? ' 

"  I  immediately  went  to  work  upon  large  pieces  of  timber  and 
cables,  for  I  had  choice  of  them,  and  tied  them  together  so 
strongly  that  I  soon  made  a  very  solid  raft.  When  I  had 
finished  I  loaded  it  with  some  bulses  of  rubies,  emeralds, 
ambergris,  rock-crystal,  and  bales  of  rich  stuffs.  Having 
balanced  my  cargo  exactly,  and  fastened  it  well  to  the  raft,  I 
went  on  board  with  two  oars  that  I  had  made,  and  leaving  it 
to  the  course  of  the  river,  resigned  myself  to  the  will  of  God. 

"As  soon  as  I  entered  the  cavern,  I  lost  all  light,  and  the 


"  As   SOON    AS   I   ENTERED   THE   CAVERN    I   LOST    AlL    LiGHT. 
Drawn  by  Ernest  Fosbery. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  51 

stream  carried  me  I  knew  not  whither.  Thus  I  floated  some 
days  in  perfect  darkness,  and  once  found  the  arch  so  low  that 
it  very  nearly  touched  my  head,  which  made  me  cautious 
afterwards  to  avoid  the  like  danger.  All  this  while  I  ate 
nothing  but  what  was  just  necessary  to  support  nature;  yet, 
notwithstanding  my  frugality  all  my  provisions  were  spent. 
Then  a  pleasing  stupor  seized  upon  me.  I  cannot  tell  how 
long  it  continued;  but  when  I  revived  I  was  surprised  to  find 
myself  ._  an  extensive  plain  on  the  brink  of  a  river,  where 
my  raft  was  tied,  amidst  a  great  number  of  negroes.  I  got 
up  as  soon  as  I  saw  them,  and  saluted  them.  They  spoke  to 
me,  but  I  did  not  understand  their  language.  I  was  so  trans- 
ported with  joy  that  I  knew  not  whether  I  was  asleep  or 
awake ;  bat  being  persuaded  that  I  was  not  asleep,  I  recited 
the  following  words  in  Arabic  aloud:  'Call  upon  the  Almighty, 
he  will  help  thee ;  thou  needest  not  perplex  thyself  about  any- 
thing else ;  shut  thy  eyes,  and  while  thou  art  asleep,  God  will 
change  thy  bad  fortune  into  good. ' 

''One  of  the  blacks  who  understood  Arabic,  hearing  me 
speak  thus,  came  towards  me,  and  said,  'Brother,  be  not  sur- 
prised to  see  us ;  we  are  inhabitants  of  this  country,  and  came 
hither  to-day  to  water  our  fields  by  digging  little  canals  from 
this  river,  which  comes  out  of  the  neighboring  mountain. 
We  observed  something  floating  upon  the  water,  went  to  see 
what  it  was,  and,  perceiving  your  raft,  one  of  us  swam  into 
the  river,  and  brought  it  thither,  where  we  fastened  it,  as  you 
see,  until  you  should  awake.  Pray  tell  us  your  history,  for  it 
must  be  extraordinary;  how  did  you  venture  yourself  into  this 
river,  and  whence  did  you  come?  '  I  begged  of  them  first  to 
give  me  something  to  eat,  and  then  I  would  satisfy  their  curi- 
osity. They  gave  me  several  sorts  of  food,  and  when  I  had 
satisfied  my  hunger,  I  related  all  that  had  befallen  me,  which 
they  listened  to  with  attentive  surprise.     As  soon  as  I  had 


52  THE  STORY  OF  SINE  AD  THE  SAILOR. 

finished,  they  told  me,  by  the  person  who  spoke  Arabic  and 
interpreted  to  them  what  I  said,  that  it  was  one  of  the  most 
wonderful  stories  they  had  ever  heard,  and  that  I  must  go 
along  with  them,  and  tell  it  their  king  myself;  it  being  too 
extraordinary  to  be  related  by  any  other  than  the  person  to 
whom  the  events  had  happened.  I  assured  them  that  I  was 
ready  to  do  whatever  they  pleased. 

"  They  immediately  sent  for  a  horse,  which  was  brought  in 
a  little  time ;  and  having  helped  me  to  mount,  some  of  them 
walked  before  to  show  the  way,  while  the  rest  took  my  raft 
and  cargo  and  followed. 

"  We  marched  till  we  came  to  the  capital  of  Serendib,  for  it 
was  in  that  island  I  had  landed.  The  blacks  presented  me  to 
their  king;  I  approached  his  throne,  and  saluted  him  as  I  used 
to  do  the  kings  of  the  Indies;  that  is  to  say,  I  prostrated 
myself  at  his  feet.  The  prince  ordered  me  to  rise,  received 
me  with  an  obliging  air,  and  made  me  sit  down  near  him. 
He  asked  me  my  ,name,  and  I  answered,  *  People  call  me 
Sinbad  the  sailor,  because  of  the  many  voyages  I  have  under- 
taken, and  I  am  a  citizen  of  Bagdad.'  ^But,'  resumed  he, 
*how  came  you  into  my  dominions,  and  from  whence  came 
you  last  ? ' 

"I  concealed  nothing  from  the  king;  I  related  to  him  all 
that  I  have  told  you,  and  his  majesty  was  so  surprised  and 
pleased,  that  he  commanded  my  adventures  to  be  written  in 
letters  of  gold  and  laid  up  in  the  archives  of  his  kingdom. 
At  last  my  raft  was  brought  in,  and  the  bales  opened  in  his 
presence;  he  admired  the  quantity  of  wood  of  aloes  and 
ambergris ;  but,  above  all,  the  rubies  and  emeralds,  for  he  had 
none  in  his  treasury  that  equalled  them. 

"  Observing  that  he  looked  on  my  jewels  with  pleasure,  and 
viewed  the  most  remarkable  among  them  one  after  another,  I 
fell  prostrate  at  his  feet,  and  took  the  liberty  to  say  to  him, 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  53 

'Sir,  not  only  my  person  is  at  your  majesty's  service,  but  the 
cargo  of  the  raft,  and  I  would  beg  of  you  to  dispose  of  it  as 
your  own/  He  answered  me  with  a  smile,  'Sinbad,  I  will 
take  care  not  to  covet  anything  of  yours,  or  to  take  anything 
from  you  that  God  has  given  you ;  far  from  lessening  your 
wealth,  I  design  to  augment  it,  and  will  not  let  you  quit  my 
dominions  without  marks  of  my  liberality.'  All  the  answer  I 
returned  were  prayers  for  the  prosperity  of  that  nobly  minded 
prince,  and  commendations  of  his  generosity  and  bounty.  He 
charged  one  of  his  officers  to  take  care  of  me ;  and  ordered 
people  to  serve  me  at  his  own  expense.  The  officer  was  very 
faithful  in  the  execution  of  his  commission,  and  caused  all 
the  goods  to  be  carried  to  the  lodgings  provided  for  me. 

"  I  went  every  day  at  a  set  hour  to  make  my  court  to  the 
king,  and  spent  the  rest  of  my  time  in  viewing  the  city,  and 
what  was  most  worthy  of  notice. 

"  The  isle  of  Serendib  is  situated  just  under  the  equinoctial 
line ;  so  that  the  days  and  nights  there  are  always  of  twelve 
hours  each,  and  the  island  is  eighty  parasangs  in  length,  and 
as  many  in  breadth. 

"  The  capital  stands  at  the  end  of  a  fine  valley,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  island,  encompassed  by  mountains  the  highest  in 
the  world.  They  are  seen  three  days'  sail  off  at  sea.  Rubies 
and  several  sorts  of  minerals  abound,  and  the  rocks  are  for 
the  most  part  composed  of  a  metalline  stone  made  use  of  to 
cut  and  polish  other  precious  stones.  All  kinds  of  rare 
plants  and  trees  grow  there,  especially  cedars  and  cocoa-nut. 
There  is,  also,  pearl-fishing  in  the  mouth  of  its  principal 
river;  ana  in  some  of  its  valleys  are  found  diamonds.  I 
made,  by  way  of  devotion,  a  pilgrimage  to  the  place  where 
Adam  was  confined  after  his  banishment  from  Paradise,  and 
had  the  curiosity  to  go  to  the  top  of  the  mountain. 

"  When  I  returned  to  the  city,  I  prayed  the  king  to  allow 


54  THE  STORY  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR. 

me  to  return  to  my  own  country,  and  he  granted  me  permis- 
sion in  the  most  obliging  and  most  honorable  manner.  He 
would  needs  force  a  rich  present  upon  me;  and  when  I  went 
to  take  my  leave  of  him,  he  gave  me  one  much  more  consider- 
able, and,  at  the  same  time,  charged  me  with  a  letter  for  the 
commander  of  the  faithful,  our  sovereign,  saying  to  me,  'I 
pray  you  give  this  present  from  me,  and  this  letter  to  the 
caliph,  and  assure  him  of  my  friendship.'  I  took  the  present 
and  letter  in  a  very  respectful  manner,  and  promised  his 
majesty  punctually  to  execute  the  commission  with  which  he 
was  pleased  to  honor  me.  Before  I  embarked,  this  prince  sent 
for  the  captain  and  the  merchants  who  were  to  go  with  me, 
and  ordered  them  to  treat  me  with  all  possible  respect. 

"  The  letter  from  the  king  of  Serendib  was  written  on  the 
skin  of  a  certain  animal  of  great  value,  because  of  its  being 
so  scarce,  and  of  a  yellowish  color.  The  characters  of  this 
letter  were  of  azure,  and  the  contents  as  follows :  — 

"  '  The  King  of  the  Indies,  before  whom  march  one  hundred  elephants, 
who  lives  in  a  palace  that  shines  with  one  hundred  thousand  rubies,  and 
who  has  in  his  treasury  twenty  thousand  crowns  enriched  with  diamonds, 
to  Caliph  Haroon  al  Rusheed. 

"  'Though  the  present  we  send  you  be  inconsiderable,  receive  it,  how- 
ever, as  a  brother  and  a  friend,  in  consideration  of  the  hearty  friendship 
which  we  bear  for  you,  and  of  which  we  are  willing  to  give  you  proof. 
"V^e  desire  the  same  part  in  your  friendship,  considering  that  we  believe 
it  to  be  our  merit,  being  of  the  same  dignity  with  yourself.  We  con- 
jure you  this  in  quality  of  a  brother.    Adieu.' 

"  The  present  consisted  first,  of  one  single  ruby  made  into  a 
cup,  about  half  a  foot  high,  an  inch  thick,  and  filled  with 
round  pearls  of  half  a  drachm  each;  second,  the  skin  of  a  ser- 
pent, whose  scales  were  as  large  as  an  ordinary  piece  of  gold, 
and  had  the  virtue  to  preserve  from  sickness  those  who  lay 
upon  it;  third,  fifty  thousand  drachms  of  the  best  wood  of 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  55 

aloes,  with  thirty  grains  of  camphire  as  big  as  pistachios; 
fourth,  a  female  slave  of  ravishing  beauty,  whose  apparel  was 
all  covered  over  with  jewels. 

"  The  ship  set  sail,  and  after  a  very  successful  navigation, 
we  landed  at  Bussorah,  and  from  thence  I  went  to  Bagdad, 
where  the  first  thing  I  did  was  to  acquit  myself  of  my 
commission. 

"  I  took  the  king  of  Serendib's  letter,  and  went  to  present 
myself  at  the  gate  of  the  commander  of  the  faithful,  followed 
by  the  beautiful  slave,  and  such  of  my  own  family  as  carried 
the  presents.  I  stated  the  reason  of  my  coming,  and  was 
immediately  conducted  to  the  throne  of  the  caliph.  I  made 
my  reverence,  and,  after  a  short  speech,  gave  him  the  letter 
and  present.  When  he  had  read  what  the  king  of  Serendib 
wrote  to  him,  he  asked  me,  if  that  prince  were  really  so  rich 
and  potent  as  he  represented  himself  in  his  letter.  I  pros- 
trated myself  a  second  time,  and  rising  again,  said,  *  Com- 
mander of  the  faithful,  I  can  assure  your  majesty  he  doth  not 
exceed  the  truth.  I  bear  him  witness.  Nothing  is  more 
worthy  of  admiration  than  the  magnificence  of  his  palace. 
When  the  prince  appears  in  public,  he  has  a  throne  fixed  on 
the  back  of  an  elephant,  and  marches  betwixt  two  ranks  of  his 
ministers,  favorites,  and  other  people  of  his  court;  before 
him,  upon  the  same  elephant,  an  officer  carries  a  golden  lance 
in  his  hand;  and  behind  the  throne  there  is  another,  who 
stands  upright,  with  a  column  of  gold,  on  the  top  of  which  is 
an  emerald  half  a  foot  long,  and  an  inch  thick;  before  him 
march  a  guard  of  one  thousand  men,  clad  in  cloth  of  gold  and 
silk,  and  mounted  on  elephants  richly  caparisoned. 

" '  While  the  king  is  on  his  march,  the  officer,  who  is  before 
him  on  the  same  elephant,  cries  from  time  to  time  with  a  loud 
voice,  "  Behold  the  great  monarch,  the  potent  and  redoubtable 
sultan  of  the  Indies,  whose  palace  is  covered  with  one  hundred 


S6  THE  STORY  OF  SINE  AD   THE  SAILOR. 

thousand  rubies,  and  who  possesses  twenty  thousand  crowns  of 
diamonds.  Behold  the  monarch  greater  than  Solomon^  and 
the  powerful  Maha-raja."  After  he  has  pronounced  those 
words,  the  officer  behind  the  throne  cries  in  his  turn,  "  This 
monarch,  so  great  and  so  powerful,  must  die,  must  die,  must 
die."  And  the  officer  before  replies,  "Praise  be  to  him  who 
lives  forever." 

"'Farther,  the  king  of  Serendib  is  so  just  that  there  are  no 
judges  in  his  dominions.  His  people  have  no  need  of  them. 
They  understand  and  observe  justice  rigidly  of  themselves.' 

"The  caliph  was  much  pleased  with  my  account.  'The 
wisdom  of  that  king,'  said  he,  'appears  in  his  letter,  and  after 
what  you  tell  me,  I  must  confess  that  his  wisdom  is  worthy  of 
his  people,  and  his  people  deserve  so  wise  a  prince.'  Having 
spoken  thus,  he  dismissed  me,  and  sent  me  home  with  a  rich 
present." 

Sinbad  left  off,  and  his  company  retired,  Hinbad  having 
first  received  one  hundred  sequins;  and  next  day  they 
returned  to  hear  the  relation  of  his  seventh  and  last  voyage. 

THE   SEVENTH  AND  LAST  VOYAGE. 

"Being  returned  from  my  sixth  voyage,  I  absolutely  laid 
aside  all  thoughts  of  travelling;  for,  besides  that  my  age  now 
required  rest,  I  was  resolved  no  more  to  expose  myself  to  such 
risks  as  I  had  encountered;  so  that  I  thought  of  nothing  but  to 
pass  the  rest  of  my  days  in  tranquillity.  One  day  as  I  was 
treating  my  friends,  one  of  my  servants  came  and  told 
me  that  an  officer  of  the  caliph's  inquired  for  me.  I  rose 
from  my  table  and  went  to  him.  '  The  caliph,'  said  he,  '  has 
sent  me  to  tell  you,  that  he  must  speak  with  you.'  I  fol- 
lowed the  officer  to  the  palace  where  being  presented  to  the 
caliph,  I  saluted  him  by  prostrating  myself  at  his  feet.    '  Sin- 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  57 

bad/  said  he  to  me,  'I  stand  in  need  of  your  service;  you 
must  carry  my  answer  and  present  to  the  king  of  Serendib. 
It  is  but  just  I  should  return  his  civility.' 

"This  command  of  the  caliph  was  to  me  like  a  clap  of 
thunder.  'Commander  of  the  faithful/  I  replied,  'I  am  ready 
to  do  whatever  your  majesty  shall  think  fit  to  command;  but  I 
beseech  you  most  humbly  to  consider  what  I  have  undergone. 
I  have  also  made  a  vow  never  to  go  out  of  Bagdad.'  Hence 
I  took  occasion  to  give  him  a  full  and  particular  account  of 
all  my  adventures,  which  he  had  the  patience  to  hear  out. 

"As  soon  as  I  had  finished,  'I  confess,'  said  he,  *that  the 
things  you  tell  me  are  very  extraordinary,  yet  you  must,  for 
my  sake,  undertake  this  voyage  which  I  propose  to  you.  You 
will  only  have  to  go  to  the  isle  of  Serendib,  and  deliver  the 
commission  which  I  give  you.  After  that  you  are  at  liberty 
to  return.  But  you  must  go;  for  you  know  it  would  not 
comport  with  my  dignity  to  be  indebted  to  the  king  of  that 
island.'  Perceiving  that  the  caliph  insisted  upon  my  com- 
pliance, I  submitted,  and  told  him  that  I  was  willing  to  obey. 
He  was  very  well  pleased,  and  ordered  me  one  thousand 
sequins  for  the  expenses  of  my  journey. 

"  I  prepared  for  my  departure  in  a  few  days,  and  as  soon  as 
the  caliph's  letter  and  present  were  delivered  to  me,  I  went 
to  Bussorah,  where  I  embarked,  and  had  a  very  happy  voyage. 
Having  arrived  at  the  isle  of  Serendib,  I  acquainted  the 
king's  ministers  with  my  commission,  and  prayed  them  to  get 
me  speedy  audience.  They  did  so,  and  I  was  conducted  to 
the  palace  in  an  honorable  manner,  where  I  saluted  the  king 
by  prostration,  according  to  custom.  That  prince  knew  me 
immediately,  and  testified  very  great  joy  at  seeing  me.  'Sin- 
bad,'  said  he,  'you  are  welcome;  I  have  many  times  thought 
of  you  since  you  departed;  I  bless  the  day  on  which  we  see 
one  another  once  more.'    I  made  my  compliment  to  him,  and 


58  TEE  STOBY  OF  SIN  BAD   THE  SAILOB. 

after  having  thanked  him  for  his  kindness,  delivered  the 
caliph's  letter  and  present,  which  he  received  with  all 
imaginable  satisfaction. 

"  The  caliph's  present  was  a  complete  suit  of  cloth  of  gold, 
valued  at  one  thousand  sequins;  fifty  robes  of  rich  stuif,  a 
hundred  of  white  cloth,  the  finest  of  Cairo,  Suez,  and  Alexan- 
dria; a  vessel  of  agate,  broader  than  deep,  an  inch  thick,  and 
half  a  foot  wide,  the  bottom  of  which  represented  in  bas-relief 
a  man  with  one  knee  on  the  ground,  who  held  a  bow  and  an 
arrow  ready  to  discharge  at  a  lion.  He  sent  him  also  a  rich 
tablet,  which,  according  to  tradition,  belonged  to  the  great 
Solomon.     The  caliph's  letter  was  as  follows:  — 

"  '  Greeting,  in  the  name  of  the  sovereign  guide  of  the  right  way,  from 
the  dependant  on  God,  Haroon  al  "Rusheed,  whom  God  hath  set  in  the 
place  of  vicegerent  to  his  prophet,  after  his  ancestors  of  happy  memory, 
to  the  potent  and  esteemed  Eaja  of  Serendib. 

"  '  We  received  your  letter  with  joy,  and  send  you  this  from  our  im- 
perial residence,  the  Garden  of  Superior  Wits.  We  hope  when  you  look 
upon  it,  you  will  perceive  our  good  intention  and  be  pleased  with  it. 

" '  Adieu.' 

"  The  king  of  Serendib  was  highly  gratified  that  the  caliph 
answered  his  friendship.  A  little  time  after  this  audience,  I 
solicited  leave  to  depart,  and  had  much  difficulty  to  obtain 
it.  I  procured  it,  however,  at  last,  and  the  king,  when  he  dis- 
missed me,  made  me  a  very  considerable  present.  I  embarked 
immediately  to  return  to  Bagdad,  but  had  not  the  good  for- 
tune to  arrive  there  so  speedily  as  I  had  hoped.  God  ordered 
it  otherwise. 

"  Three  or  four  days  after  my  departure,  we  were  attacked 
by  corsairs,  who  easily  seized  upon  our  ship,  because  it  was 
no  vessel  of  force.  Some  of  the  crew  offered  resistance, 
which  cost  them  their  lives.  But  for  myself  and  the  rest, 
who  were  not  so  imprudent,  the  corsairs  saved  us  on  purpose 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  59 

to  make  slaves  of  us.  We  were  all  stripped,  and  instead  of 
our  own  clothes  the}^  gave  us  sorry  rags,  and  carried  us  into 
a  remote  island,  where  they  sold  us. 

"  I  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  rich  merchant,  who,  as  soon  as 
he  bought  me,  carried  me  to  his  house,  treated  me  well,  and 
clad  me  handsomely  for  a  slaved.  Some  days  after,  not  know- 
ing who  I  was,  he  asked  me  if  I  understood  any  trade.  I 
answered  that  I  was  no  mechanic,  but  a  merchant,  and  that 
the  corsairs  who  sold  me,  had  robbed  me  of  all  I  possessed. 
*  But  tell  me,'  replied  he,  'can  you  shoot  with  a  bow?'  I  an- 
swered that  the  bow  was  one  of  my  exercises  in  my  youth. 
He  gave  me  a  bow  and  arrows,  and,  taking  me  behind  him  on 
an  elephant,  carried  me  to  a  thick  forest  some  leagues  from  the 
town.  We  penetrated  a  great  way  into  the  wood,  and  when 
he  thought  fit  to  stop,  he  bade  me  alight ;  then  showing  me  a 
great  tree,  *  Climb  up  that,'  said  he,  'and  shoot  at  the  ele- 
phants as  you  see  them  pass  by,  for  there  is  a  prodigious 
number  of  them  in  this  forest,  and  if  any  of  them  fall,  come 
and  give  me  notice.'  Having  spoken  thus, he  left  me  victuals, 
and  returned  to  the  town,  and  I  continued  upon  the  tree  all 
night. 

"  I  saw  no  elephant  during  that  time,  but  next  morning,  as 
soon  as  the  sun  was  up,  I  perceived  a  great  number.  I  shot 
several  arrows  among  them,  and  at  last  one  of  the  elephants 
fell,  when  the  rest  retired  immediately,  and  left  me  at  liberty 
to  go  and  acquaint  my  patron  with  my  booty.  When  I  had 
informed  him,  he  gave  me  a  good  meal,  commended  my  dex- 
terity, and  caressed  me  highly.  We  went  afterwards  together 
to  the  forest,  where  we  dug  a  hole  for  the  elephant ;  my  patron 
designing  to  return  when  it  was  rotten,  and  take  his  teeth  to 
trade  with. 

"  I  continued  this  employment  for  two  months,  and  killed 
an  elephant  every  day,  getting  sometimes  upon  one  tree,  and 


60  THE  STORY  OF  SIN  BAD   THE  SAILOB. 

sometimes  upon  another.  One  morning,  as  I  looked  for  the 
elephants,  I  perceived  with  extreme  amazement  that  instead 
of  passing  by  me  across  the  forest  as  usual,  they  stopped  and 
came  to  me  with  a  horrible  noise,  in  such  numbers  that  t?he 
plain  was  covered  and  shook  under  them.  They  encompassed 
the  tree  in  which  I  was  concealed,  with  their  trunks  extended, 
and  all  fixed  their  eyes  upon  me.  At  this  alarming  spectacle  I 
continued  immovable,  and  was  so  much  terrified  that  my  bow 
and  arrows  fell  out  of  my  hand. 

"  My  fears  were  not  without  cause ;  for  after  the  elephants 
had  stared  upon  me  some  time,  one  of  the  largest  of  them 
put  his  trunk  round  the  foot  of  the  tree,  plucked  it  up,  and 
threw  it  on  the  ground;  I  fell  with  the  tree,  and  the  ele- 
phant, taking  me  up  with  his  trunk,  laid  me  on  his  back, 
where  I  sat  more  like  one  dead  than  alive,  with  my  quiver 
on  my  shoulder.  He  put  himself  afterwards  at  the  head  of 
the  rest,  who  followed  him  in  troops,  carried  me  a  consider- 
able way,  then  laid  me  down  on  the  ground,  and  retired  with 
all  his  companions.  Conceive,  if  you  can,  the  condition  I 
was  in :  I  thought  myself  in  a  dream.  After  having  lain 
some  time,  and  seeing  the  elephants  gone,  I  got  up,  and 
found  I  was  upon  a  long  and  broad  hill,  almost  covered  with 
the  bones  and  teeth  of  elephants.  I  confess  to  you,  that  this 
object  furnished  me  with  abundance  of  reflections.  I  admired 
the  instinct  of  those  animals;  I  doubted  not  but  that  was 
their  burying-place,  and  that  they  carried  me  thither  on 
purpose  to  tell  me  that  I  should  forbear  to  persecute  them, 
since  I  did  it  only  for  their  teeth.  I  did  not  stay  on  the 
hill,  but  turned  towards  the  city,  and,  after  having  travelled 
a  day  and  a  night,  I  came  to  my  patron.  I  met  no  elephant 
in  my  way,  which  made  me  think  they  had  retired  farther 
into  the  forest,  to  leave  me  at  liberty  to  come  back  to  the 
hill  without  any  obstacle. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  61 

"As  soon  as  my  patron  saw  me;  'Ah,  poor  Sinbad/ 
exclaimed  he,  'I  was  in  great  trouble  to  know  what  was 
become  of  you.  I  have  been  at  the  forest,  where  I  found  a 
tree  newly  pulled  up,  and  a  bow  and  arrows  on  the  ground, 
and  after  having  sought  for  you  in  vain,  I  despaired  of  ever 
seeing  you  more.  Pray  tell  me  what  befell  you,  and  by  what 
good  chance  you  are  still  alive.'  I  satisfied  his  curiosity, 
and  going  both  of  us  next  morning  to  the  hill,  he  found  to 
his  great  joy  that  what  I  had  told  him  was  true.  We  loaded 
the  elephant  which  had  carried  us  with  as  many  teeth  as  he 
could  bear,  and  when  we  were  returned,  'Brother,'  said  my 
patron,  'for  I  will  treat  you  no  more  as  my  slave,  after  having 
made  such  a  discovery  as  will  enrich  me,  God  bless  you  with 
all  happiness  and  prosperity.  I  declare  before  Him,  that  I 
give  you  your  liberty.  I  concealed  from  you  what  I  am  now 
going  to  tell  you. 

"'The  elephants  of  our  forest  have,  every  year,  killed  us 
a  great  many  slaves,  whom  we  sent  to  seek  ivory.  For  all 
the  cautions  we  could  give  them,  those  crafty  animals 
destroyed  them  one  time  or  another.  God  has  delivered 
you  from  their  fury,  and  has  bestowed  that  favor  upon  you 
only.  It  is  a  sign  that  he  loves  you,  and  has  some  use  for 
your  service  in  the  world.  You  have  procured  me  incredible 
wealth.  Formerly  we  could  not  procure  ivory  but  by  expos- 
ing the  lives  of  our  slaves,  and  now  our  whole  city  is 
enriched  by  your  means.  Do  not  think  I  pretend  to  have 
rewarded  you  by  giving  you  your  liberty.  I  will  also  give 
you  considerable  riches.  I  could  engage  all  our  city  to  contrib- 
ute towards  making  your  fortune,  but  I  will  have  the  glory  of 
doing  it  myself.' 

"  To  this  obliging  declaration,  I  replied,  '  Patron,  God  pre- 
serve you.  Your  giving  me  my  liberty  is  enough  to  dis- 
charge what  you  owe  me,  and  I  desire  no  other  reward  for 


6^  Till:  STOBY  OF  SINBAD  THE  SAILOR. 

the  service  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  do  to  you  and  your 
city,  but  leave  to  return  to  my  own  country.'  *Very  well/ 
said  he,  Hhe  monsoon  will,  in  a  little  time,  bring  ships  for 
ivory.  I  will  then  send  you  home,  and  give  you  wherewith 
to  bear  your  charges.'  I  thanked  him  again  for  my  liberty 
and  his  good  intentions  towards  me.  I  stayed  with  him 
expecting  the  monsoon,  and  during  that  time,  we  made  so 
many  journeys  to  the  hill,  that  we  tilled  all  our  warehouses 
with  ivory.  The  other  merchants  who  traded  in  it  did  the 
same,  for  it  could  not  be  long  concealed  from  them. 

"The  ships  arrived  at  last,  and  my  patron,  himself  having 
made  choice  of  the  ship  wherein  I  was  to  embark,  loaded 
half  of  it  with  ivory  on  my  account,  laid  in  provisions  in 
abundance  for  my  passage,  and  besides,  obliged  me  to  accept' 
a  present  of  some  curiosities  of  the  country  of  great  value. 
After  I  had  returned  him  a  thousand  thanks  for  all  his 
favors,  I  went  aboard.  We  set  sail, land  as  the  adventure 
which  procured  me  this  liberty  was  very  extraordinary,  I  had 
it  continually  in  my  thoughts. 

"We  stopped  at  some  islands  to  take  in  fresh  provisions. 
Our  vessel  being  come  to  a  port  on  the  mainland  of  the 
Indies,  we  touched  there,  and  not  being  willing  to  venture 
by  sea  to  Bussorah,  I  landed  my  proportion  of  the  ivory, 
resolving  to  proceed  on  my  journey  by  land.  I  made  vast 
sums  on  my  ivory,  bought  several  rarities,  which  I  intended 
for  presents,  and  when  my  equipage  was  ready,  set  out  in 
company  with  a  large  caravan  of  merchants.  I  was  a  long 
time  on  the  way,  and  suffered  much,  but  endured  all  with 
patience,  when  I  considered  that  I  had  nothing  to  fear  from 
the  seas,  from  pirates,  from  serpents,  or  from  the  other  perils 
to  which  I  had  been  exposed. 

"  All  these  fatigues  ended  at  last,  and  I  arrived  safe  at  Bag- 
dad.    I  went  immediately  to  wait  upon  the  caliph,  and  gave 


THE  IIEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  63 

him  an  account  of  my  embassy.  That  prince  said  he  had 
been  uneasy,  as  I  was  so  long  in  returning,  but  that  he  always 
hoped  God  would  preserve  me.  When  I  told  him  the  adven- 
ture of  the  elephants,  he  seemed  much  surprised,  and  would 
never  have  given  any  credit  to  it  had  he  not  known  my 
veracity.  He  deemed  this  story,  and  the  other  relations  I 
had  given  him,  to  be  so  curious,  that  he  ordered  one  of  his 
secretaries  to  write  them  in  characters  of  gold,  and  lay  them 
up  in  his  treasury.  I  retired  well  satisfied  with  the  honors  I 
received,  and  the  presents  which  he  gave  me;  and  ever  since 
I  have  devoted  myself  wholly  to  my  family,  kindred  and 
friends." 

Sinbad  here  finished  the  relation  of  his  seventh  and  last 
voyage,  and  then  addressing  himself  to  Hinbad,  "Well, 
friend,"  said  he,  "did  you  ever  hear  of  any  person  that 
suffered  so  much  as  I  have  done,  or  of  any  mortal  that  has 
gone  through  so  many  vicissitudes?  Is  it  not  reasonable 
that,  after  all  this,  I  should  enjoy  a  quiet  and  pleasant  life?" 
As  he  said  this,  Hinbad  drew  near  to  him,  and  kissing  his 
hand,  said,  "I  must  acknowledge,  sir,  that  you  have  gone 
through  many  imminent  dangers;  my  troubles  are  not  com- 
parable to  yours;  if  they  afflict  me  for  a  time,  I  comfort 
myself  with  the  thoughts  of  the  profit  I  get  by  them.  You 
not  only  deserve  a  quiet  life,  but  are  worthy  of  all  the  riches 
you  enjoy,  because  you  make  of  them  such  a  good  and  gen- 
erous use.  May  you  therefore  continue  to  live  in  happiness 
and  joy  till  the  day  of  your  death !  " 

Sinbad  gave  him  one  hundred  sequins  more,  received  him 
into  the  number  of  his  friends,  desired  him  to  quit  his 
porter's  employment,  and  come  and  dine  every  day  with  him, 
that  he  might  have  reason  to  remember  Sinbad  the  sailor. 


64  THE  DEATH  OF  KING  ARTHUR. 

;      THE   DEATH   OF  KING  ARTHUR. 

From  MoRfE  d' Arthur. 
Sir  TJiomas  Malory. 

.  .  .  And  Sir  Mordred  and  his  party  fled  unto  Canterbury. 
.  .  .  And  at  the  last,  Sir  Mordred  was  agreed  to  have 
Cornwall  and  Kent  by  King  Arthur's  days,  and  after  the 
days  of  King  Arthur,  to  have  all  England  to  his  obeisance. 

So  then  were  they  condescended  that  King  Arthur  and  Sir 
Mordred  should  meet  between  both  their  hosts,  and  each  of 
them  should  bring  fourteen  persons.  And  they  came  with  this 
word  unto  King  Arthur.  ^'And  then,"  said  he,  "I  am  glad 
that  this  is  done."  And  so  he  went  into  the  field.  And  when 
King  Arthur  should  depart,  he  warned  all  his  host  that,  and 
they  saw  any  sword  drawn,  "  look  that  ye  come  on  fiercely,  and 
slay  that  traitor.  Sir  Mordred,  for  I  in  nowise  trust  him."  In 
likewise  Sir  Mordred  did  warn  his  host  that  "if  ye  see  any 
manner  of  sword  drawn,  look  that  ye  come  on  fiercely,  and  so 
slay  all  that  ever  standeth  before  you ;  for  in  nowise  I  will 
not  trust  for  this  treaty,  for  I  know  well  that  my  father  wiU 
be  avenged  upon  me."  And  so  they  were  agreed,  and  accorded 
thoroughly. 

Eight  so  came  an  adder  out  of  a  little  heath  bush,  and  stung 
a  knight  on  the  foot.  And  when  the  knight  felt  him  stung, 
he  looked  down  and  saw  the  adder,  and  then  he  drew  his 
sword  to  slay  the  adder,  and  thought  of  none  other  harm. 

And  when  the  hosts  on  both  parties  saw  that  sword  drawn, 
they  blew  trumpets  and  horns,  and  shouted  grimly.  And 
so  both  hosts  dressed  them  together,  and  King  Arthur  took 
his  horse,  and  said,  "  Alas  I  this  unhappy  day : "  and  so  he 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  ^OOES.  65 

rode  to  his  post.  And  so  Sir  Mordred  did  in  like  wise,  and 
never  was  there  seen  a  dolefuller  battle  in  Christian  land.  .  .  . 

And  ever  they  fought  still  till  it  was  nigh  night,  and  by 
that  time  was  there  an  hundred  thousand  laid  dead  upon  the 
down.  Then  was  King  Arthur  wroth  out  of  measure,  when 
he  saw  his  people  so  slain  from  him.  Then  the  King  looked 
about  him,  and  then  was  he  ware  that  of  all  his  host,  and  of 
all  his  good  knights,  were  left  no  more  alive  but  two  knights : 
that  were  Sir  Lucan,  the  butler,  and  Sir  Bedivere,  his  brother, 
and  they  were  right  sore  wounded. 

"  Jesu  mercy,"  said  King  Arthur ;  "  where  are  all  my  noble 
knights  become?  Alas!  that  ever  I  should  see  this  doleful 
day :  for  now,"  said  King  Arthur ;  "  I  am  come  unto  mine  end. 
But  would  to  God  that  I  wist  where  that  traitor.  Sir  Mordred, 
is,  which  hath  caused  all  this  mischief!"  Then  was  King 
Arthur  ware  where  Sir  Mordred  leaned  upon  his  sword,  among 
a  heap  of  dead  men.  "Now  give  me  my  spear,"  said  King 
Arthur  to  Sir  Lucan,  "for  yonder  I  have  espied  the  traitor 
which  hath  wrought  all  this  woe."  .  .  . 

And  when  Sir  Mordred  heard  King  Arthur,  he  ran  unto  him 
with  his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  and  there  King  Arthur 
smote  Sir  Mordred  under  the  shield  with  a  foin  of  his  spear, 
throughout  the  body  more  than  a  fathom.  And  when  Sir  Mor- 
dred felt  that  he  had  his  death  wound,  he  thrust  himself  with 
all  the  might  that  he  had  up  to  the  end  of  King  Arthur's  spear 
and  right  so  he  smote  his  father  Arthur  with  his  sword,  that 
he  held  in  both  his  hands,  on  the  side  of  the  head,  that  the 
sword  pierced  the  helmet  and  the  brain-pan.  And  therewith 
Sir  Mordred  fell  down  stark  dead  to  the  earth,  and  the  noble 
King  Arthur  fell  in  a  swoon  to  the  earth,  and  there  he  swooned 
oftentimes.  And  Sir  Lucan  and  Sir  Bedivere  oftentimes  heaved 
him  up,  and  so  weakly  they  led  him  between  them  both  unto 
a  little  chapel,  not  far  from  the  seaside. 


66  THE  DEATH  OF  KING  ABTHUR. 

Then  Sir  Lucan  took  up  King  Arthur  on  the  one  part,  and 
Sir  Bedivere  on  the  other  part,  and  in  the  lifting  the  King 
swooned.  And  Sir  Lucan  fell  in  a  swoon  with  that  lift,  and 
therewith  the  noble  knight's  heart  burst.  And  when  King 
Arthur  came  to  himself  again,  he  beheld  Sir  Lucan  how  he 
lay  dead.  "  Alas ! "  said  King  Arthur,  "  this  is  unto  me  a 
full  heavy  sight,  for  to  see  this  noble  duke  so  to  die  for  my 
sake;  for  he  would  have  holpen  me,  that  had  more  need  of 
help  than  I  have.  Alas!  he  would  not  complain  him,  his 
heart  was  so  set  for  to  help  me.  Now,  Jesu,  have  mercy 
upon  his  soul."  Then  Sir  Bedivere  wept  for  the  death  of 
his  brother.  "Leave  this  weeping  and  mourning,"  said  King 
Arthur,  '/  for  all  this  will  not  avail  me ;  for  wit  thou  well  and 
I  might  live  myself,  the  death  of  Sir  Lucan  would  grieve  me 
evermore.  But  my  time  hieth  fast,"  said  King  Arthur  unto 
Sir  Bedivere^  "therefore  take  thou  Excalibur,  my  good  sword, 
and  go  with  it  unto  yonder  water-side;  and  when  thou  comest 
there,  I  charge  thee,  throw  my  sword  into  that  water,  and 
come  again  and  tell  me  what  thou  shalt  see  there."  "My 
lord,"  said  Sir  Bedivere,  "your  command  shall  be  done,  and 
lightly  bring  you  word  again." 

And  so  Sir  Bedivere  departed,  and  by  the  way  he  behel(J 
that  noble  sword,  where  the  pommel  and  the  haft  were  all  of 
precious  stones.  .  And  then  he  said  to  himself,  "If  I  throw 
this  rich  sword  into  the  water,  thereof  shall  never  come  good> 
but  harm  and  loss."  And  then  Sir  Bedivere  hid  Excalibur 
under  a  tree,  and  so  as  soon  as  he  might,  he  came  again  unto 
King  Arthur,  and  said  he  had  been  at  the  water,  and  had 
thrown  the  sword  into  the  water.  "  What  sawest  thou  there  ?  " 
said  the  King.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  I  saw  nothing  but  waves  and 
wind."  "That  is  untruly  said  of  thee,"  said  King  Arthur, 
"therefore  go  thou  lightly  and  do  my  command,  as  thou  art 
to  me  lief  and  dear,  spare  not  but  throw  it  in." 


TBE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  67 

Then  Sir  Bedivere  returned  again,  and  took  the  sword  in  his 
hand ;  and  then  him  thought  it  sin  and  shame  to  throw  away 
that  noble  sword :  and  so  again  he  hid  the  sword,  and  returned 
again,  and  told  to  the  King  that  he  had  been  at  the  water  and 
done  his  command.  "What  saw  ye  there?"  said  the  King. 
"Sir,"  said  he,  "I  saw  nothing  but  the  water  leap  and  the 
waves  wan."  "Ah!  traitor,  untrue,"  said  King  Arthur,  "now 
hast  thou  betrayed  me  two  times,  who  would  have  weened 
that  thou  that  hast  been  unto  me  so  self  and  dear,  and  thou 
art  named  a  noble  knight,  and  wouldest  betray  me  for  the 
rich  sword.  But  now  go  again  lightly,  for  thy  long  tarrying 
putteth  me  in  great  jeopardy  of  my  life,  for  I  have  taken  cold; 
and  but  if  thou  do  as  I  command  thee,  and  if  ever  I  may  see 
thee,  I  shall  slay  thee  with  mine  own  hands,  for  thou  wouldest 
for  my  rich  sword  see  me  dead." 

Then  Sir  Bedivere  departed,  and  went  to  the  sword,  and 
lightly  took  it  up  and  went  to  the  water's  side,  and  there  he 
bound  the  girdle  about  the  hilts.  And  then  he  threw  the 
sword  into  the  water  as  far  as  he  might,  and  there  came  an 
arm  and  a  hand  above  the  water,  and  met  it,  and  caught  it, 
and  so  shook  it  thrice  and  brandished.  And  then  the  hand 
vanished  away  with  the  sword  in  the  water. 

So  Sir  Bedivere  came  again  to  the  King,  and  told  him  what 
he  had  seen.  "Alas!  "  said  the  King,  "help  me  from  hence; 
for  I  dread  me  I  have  tarried  over  long,"  Then  Sir  Bedivere 
took  King  Arthur  upon  his  back,  and  so  went  with  him  to  the 
water's  side;  and,  when  they  were  at  the  water's  side,  even 
fast  by  the  bank  hoved  a  little  barge,  with  many  fair  ladies 
in  it;  and  among  them  all  was  a  queen,  and  all  they  had 
black  hoods;  and  they  wept  and  shrieked  when  they  saw 
King  Arthur. 

"Now  put  me  into  the  barge,"  said  the  King.  And  so  he 
did  softly^  and  there  received  him  three  queens  with  great 


68  THE  PASSING  OF  ARTHUR. 

mourning;  and  so  these  three  queens  sat  them  down,  and  in 
one  of  their  laps  King  Arthur  laid  his  head.  And  then  that 
queen  said,  "  Ah !  dear  brother,  why  have  ye  tarried  so  long 
from  me  ?  Alas !  this  wound  on  your  head  hath  taken  over- 
much cold."  And  so  then  they  rowed  from  the  land;  and 
Sir  Bedivere  beheld  all  those  ladies  go  from  him. 

Then  Sir  Bedivere  cried,  "  Ah !  my  lord  Arthur,  what  shall 
become  of  me  now  ye  go  from  me,  and  leave  me  here  alone 
among  mine  enemies  ?  "  "  Comfort  thyself,"  said  King  Arthur, 
"and  do  as  well  as  thou  mayest;  for  in  me  is  no  trust  for 
to  trust  in :  for  I  will  into  the  vale  of  Avilion,  for  to  heal  me 
of  my  grievous  wound ;  and,  if  thou  never  hear  more  of  me, 
pray  for  my  soul." 

But  evermore  the  queens  and  the  ladies  wept  and  shrieked, 
that  it  was  pity  for  to  hear  them ;  and,  as  soon  as  Sir  Bedi- 
vere had  lost  sight  of  the  barge,  he  wept  and  wailed,  and 
so  took  the  forest,  and  so  he  went  all  the  night ;  and,  in  the 
morning,  he  was  ware,  between  two  hills,  of  a  chapel  and  a 
hermitage. 


THE  PASSING  OF  ARTHUR. 

From  Idylls  of  the  Kino. 

Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson. 

So  all  day  long  the  noise  of  battle  rolPd 
Among  the  mountains  by  the  winter  sea , 
Until  King  Arthur's  Table,  man  by  man. 
Had  falPn  in  Lyonnesse  about  their  Lord, 
King  Arthur.     Then,  because  his  wound  was  deep, 
The  bold  Sir  Bedivere  uplifted  him, 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  69 

And  bore  him  to  a  chapel  nigh  the  field, 
A  broken  chancel  with  a  broken  cross, 
That  stood  on  a  dark  strait  of  barren  land : 
On  one  side  lay  the  Ocean,  and  on  one 
Lay  a  great  water,  and  the  moon  was  full. 

Then  spake  King  Arthur  to  Sir  Bedivere : 

"  The  sequel  of  to-day  unsolders  all 

The  goodliest  fellowship  of  famous  knights 

Whereof  this  world  holds  record.     Such  a  sleep 

They  sleep  —  the  men  I  loved.     I  think  that  we 

Shall  never  more,  at  any  future  time. 

Delight  our  souls  with  talk  of  knightly  deeds, 

Walking  about  the  gardens  and  the  halls 

Of  Camelot,  as  in  the  days  that  were. 

I  perish  by  this  people  which  I  made,  — 

Tho'  Merlin  sware  that  I  should  come  again 

To  rule  once  more ;  but,  let  what  will  be,  be, 

I  am  so  deeply  smitten  thro'  the  helm 

That  without  help  I  cannot  last  till  morn. 

Thou  therefore  take  my  brand  Excalibur, 

Which  was  my  pride :  for  thou  rememberest  how 

In  those  old  days,  one  summer  noon,  an  arm 

Eose  up  from  out  the  bosom  of  the  lake. 

Clothed  in  white  samite,  mystic,  wonderful. 

Holding  the  sword  —  and  how  I  row'd  across 

And  took  it,  and  have  worn  it,  like  a  king ; 

And,  wheresoever  I  am  sung  or  told 

In  af tertime,  this  also  shall  be  known : 

But  now  delay  not :  take  Excalibur, 

And  fling  him  far  into  the  middle  mere : 

Watch  what  thou  seest  and  lightly  bring  me  word." 

To  him  replied  the  bold  Sir  Bedivere : 


TO  THE  PASSING   OF  ARTHUR, 

"  It  is  not  meet,  Sir  King,  to  leave  thee  thus, 

Aidless,  alone,  and  smitten  thro'  the  helm — 

A  little  thing  may  harm  a  wounded  man ; 

Yet  I  thy  hest  will  all  perform  at  full, 

Watch  what  I  see,  and  lightly  bring  thee  word." 

So  saying,  from  the  ruin'd  shrine  he  stept. 

And  in  the  moon  athwart  the  place  of  tombs, 

Where  lay  the  mighty  bones  of  ancient  men, 

Old  knights,  and  over  them  the  sea-wind  sang 

Shrill,  chill,  with  flakes  of  foam.     He,  stepping  down 

By  zigzag  paths,  and  juts  of  pointed  rock, 

Came  on  the  shining  levels  of  the  lake. 

There  drew  he  forth  the  brand  Excalibur, 

And  o'er  him,  drawing  it,  the  winter  moon, 

Brightening  the  skirts  of  a  long  cloud,  ran  forth 

And  sparkled  keen  with  frost  against  the  hilt: 

For  all  the  haft  twinkled  with  diamond  sparks, 

Myriads  of  topaz-lights,  and  jacinth-work 

Of  subtlest  jewellery.     He  gazed  so  long 

That  both  his  eyes  were  dazzled,  as  he  stood, 

This  way  and  that  dividing  the  swift  mind, 

In  act  to  throw :  but  at  the  last  it  seem'd 

Better  to  leave  Excalibur  conceal'd 

There  in  the  many-knotted  water  flags, 

That  whistled  stiff  and  dry  about  the  marge. 

So  strode  he  back  slow  to  the  wounded  King. 

Then  spake  King  Arthur  to  Sir  Bedivere : 

"Hast  thou  perform'd  my  mission  which  I  gave? 

What  is  it  thou  hast  seen?  or  what  hast  heard?" 

And  answer  made  the  bold  Sir  Bedivere : 

"  I  heard  the  ripple  washing  in  the  reeds. 

And  the  wild  water  lapping  on  the  crag." 

To  whom  replied  King  Arthur,  faint  and  pale : 


TffE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  Tl 

"  Thou  hast  betray 'd  thy  nature  and  thy  name, 

Not  rendering  true  answer,  as  beseem' d 

Thy  fealty,  nor  like  a  noble  knight : 

Tor  surer  sign  had  followed,  either  hand, 

Or  voice,  or  else  a  motion  of  the  mere. 

This  is  a  shameful  thing  for  men  to  lie. 

Yet  now,  I  charge  thee,  quickly  go  again. 

As  thou  art  lief  and  dear,  and  do  the  thing 

I  bade  thee,  watch,  and  lightly  bring  me  word." 

Then  went  Sir  Bedivere  the  second  time 

Across  the  ridge,  and  paced  beside  the  mere. 

Counting  the  dewy  pebbles,  fix'd  in  thought  j 

But  when  he  saw  the  wonder  of  the  hilt. 

How  curiously  and  strangely  chased,  he  smote 

His  palms  together,  and  he  cried  aloud : 

"  And  if  indeed  I  cast  the  brand  away. 

Surely  a  precious  thing,  one  Avorthy  note. 

Should  thus  be  lost  forever  from  the  earth. 

Which  might  have  pleased  the  eyes  of  many  men. 

What  good  should  follow  this,  if  this  were  done? 

What  harm,  undone  ?     Deep  harm  to  disobey. 

Seeing  obedience  is  the  bond  of  rule. 

Were  it  well  to  obey  then,  if  a  king  demand 

An  act  unprofitable,  against  himself? 

The  King  is  sick,  and  knows  not  what  he  does. 

What  record,  or  what  relic  of  my  lord 

Should  be  to  aftertime,  but  empty  breath 

And  rumors  of  a  doubt?  but  were  this  kept. 

Stored  in  some  treasure-house  of  mighty  kings, 

Some  one  might  show  it  at  a  joust  of  arms. 

Saying,  'King  Arthur's  sword,  Excalibur, 

Wrought  by  the  lonely  maiden  of  the  Lake. 

Nine  years  she  wrought  it,  sitting  in  the  deeps 


72  THE  PASSING   OF  ARTHUR, 

Upon  the  hidden  bases  of  the  hills. ' 

So  might  some  old  man  speak  in  the  aftertime 

To  all  the  people,  winning  reverence. 

But  now  much  honor  and  much  fame  were  lost." 

So  spake  he,  clouded  with  his  own  conceit, 

And  hid  Excalibur  the  second  time. 

And  so  strode  back  slow  to  the  wounded  King. 

Then  spoke  King  Arthur,  breathing  heavily : 

"What  is  it  thou  hast  seen?  or  what  hast  heard?" 

And  answer  made  the  bold  Sir  Bedivere : 

"  I  heard  the  water  lapping  on  the  crag. 

And  the  long  ripple  washing  in  the  reeds." 

To  whom  replied  King  Arthur,  much  in  wrath : 

"  Ah,  miserable  and  unkind,  untrue, 

Unknightly,  traitor-hearted!     Woe  is  me! 

Authority  forgets  a  dying  king. 

Laid  widow'd  of  the  power  in  his  eye 

That  bow'd  the  will.     I  see  thee  what  thou  art, 

For  thou,  the  latest-left  of  all  my  knights, 

In  whom  should  meet  the  offices  of  all. 

Thou  wouldst  betray  me  for  the  precious  hilt; 

Either  from  lust  of  gold,  or  like  a  girl 

Valuing  the  giddy  pleasure  of  the  eyes. 

Yet,  for  a  man  may  fail  in  duty  twice, 

And  the  third  time  may  prosper,  get  thee  hence : 

But,  if  thou  spare  to  fling  Excalibur, 

I  will  arise  and  slay  thee  with  my  hands." 

Then  quickly  rose  Sir  Bedivere,  and  ran, 

And,  leaping  down  the  ridges  lightly,  plunged 

Among  the  bulrush  beds,  and  clutch'd  the  sword, 

And  strongly  wheel' d  and  threw  it.     The  great  brand 

Made  lightnings  in  the  splendor  of  the  moon, 

And  flashing  round  and  round,  and  whirl'd  in  an  arch, 


THE  BEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  73 

Shot  like  a  streamer  of  the  northern  morn, 
Seen  where  the  moving  isles  of  winter  shock 
By  night  with  noises  of  the  Northern  Sea. 
So  flashed  and  fell  the  brand  Excalibur : 
But  ere  he  dipt  the  surface,  rose  an  arm 
Clothed  in  white  samite,  mystic,  wonderful, 
And  caught  him  by  the  hilt,  and  brandish'd  him 
Three  times,  and  drew  him  under  in  the  mere. 
And  lightly  went  the  other  to  the  King. 
Then  spoke  King  Arthur,  drawing  thicker  breath: 
"  Now  see  I  by  thine  eyes  that  this  is  done. 
Speak  out:  what  is  it  thou  hast  heard,  or  seen?" 
And  answer  made  the  bold  Sir  Bedivere: 
"  Sir  King,  I  closed  mine  eyelids,  lest  the  gems 
Should  blind  my  purpose,  for  I  never  saw, 
Nor  shall  see,  here  or  elsewhere,  till  I  die. 
Not  tho'  I  live  three  lives  of  mortal  men. 
So  great  a  miracle  as  yonder  hilt. 
Then  with  both  hands  I  flung  him,  wheeling  him; 
But  when  I  looked  again,  behold  an  arm, 
Clothed  in  white  samite,  mystic,  wonderful. 
That  caught  him  by  the  hilt,  and  brandish^  him 
Three  times, and  drew  him  under  in  the  mere." 
And  answer  made  King  Arthur,  breathing  hard : 
"My  end  draws  nigh;  'tis  time  that  I  were  gone. 
Make  broad  thy  shoulders  to  receive  my  weight, 
And  bear  me  to  the  margin ;  yet  I  fear 
My  wound  hath  taken  cold,  and  I  shall  die." 
So  saying,  from  the  pavement  he  half  rose, 
Slowly,  with  pain,  reclining  on  his  arm. 
And  looking  wistfully  with  wide  blue  eyes 
As  in  a  picture.     Him  Sir  Bedivere 
Remorsefully  regarded  thro'  his  tears, 


74  THE  PASSING   OF  ARTHUR, 

And  would  have  spoken,  but  he  found  not  words ; 
.  Then  took  with  care,  and  kneeling  on  one  knee. 
O'er  both  his  shoulders  drew  the  languid  hands, 
And  rising  bore  him  thro'  the  place  of  tombs. 
But,  as  he  walk'd,  King  Arthur  panted  hard, 
Like  one  that  feels  a  nightmare  on  his  bed 
When  all  the  house  is  mute.     So  sigh'd  the  King, 
Muttering  and  murmuring  at  his  ear,  "Quick,  quick! 
I  fear  it  is  too  late,  and  I  shall  die." 
But  the  other  swiftly  strode  from  ridge  to  ridge, 
Clothed  with  his  breath,  and  looking, as  he  walk'd, 
Larger  than  human  on  the  frozen  hills. 
He  heard  the  deep  behind  him,  and  a  cry- 
Before.     His  own  thought  drove  him   like  a  goad. 
Dry  clash'd  his  harness  in  the  icy  caves 
And  barren  chasms,  and  all  to  left  and  right 
The  bare  black  cliff  clang'd  round  him,  as  he  based 
His  feet  on  juts  of  slippery  crag  that  rang 
Sharp-smitten  with  the  dint  of  armed  heels  — 
And  on  a  sudden,  lo !  the  level  lake. 
And  the  long  glories  of  the  winter  moon. 
Then  saw  they  how  there  hove  a  dusky  barge, 
Dark  as  a  funeral  scarf  from  stem  to  stern. 
Beneath  them ;  and  descending  they  were  ware 
That  all  the  decks  were  dense  with  stately  forms, 
Black-stoled,  black-hooded,  like  a  dream  —  by  these 
Three  Queens  with  crowns  of  gold :  and  from  them  rose 
A  cry  that  shiver'd  to  the  tingling  stars. 
And,  as  it  were  one  voice,  an  agony 
Of  lamentation,  like  a  wind  that  shrills 
All  night  in  a  waste  land,  where  no  one  comes, 
Or  hath  come,  since  the  making  of  the  world. 
Then  murmurM  Arthur^  "Place  me  in  the  barge." 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  75 

So  to  the  barge  tliey  came.     There  those  three  Queens 

Put  forth  their  hands,  and  took  the  King,  and  wept. 

But  she,  that  rose  the  tallest  of  them  all 

And  fairest,  laid  his  head  upon  her  lap. 

And  loosed  the  shattered  casque,  and  chafed  his  hands, 

And  call'd  him  by  his  name,  complaining  loud, 

And  dropping  bitter  tears  against  a  brow 

Striped  with  dark  blood:  for  all  his  face  was  white 

And  colorless,  and  like  the  withered  moon 

Smote  by  the  fresh  beam  of  the  springing  east ; 

And  all  his  greaves  and  cuisses  dash'd  with  drops 

Of  onset;  and  the  light  and  lustrous  curls  — 

That  made  his  forehead  like  a  rising  sun 

High  from  the  dais -throne  —  were  parch'd  with  dust; 

Or,  clotted  into  points  and  hanging  loose, 

Mix'd  with  the  knightly  growth  that  fringed  his  lips. 

So  like  a  shatter'd  column  lay  the  King; 

Not  like  that  Arthur  who,  with  lance  in  rest, 

From  spur  to  plume  a  star  of  tournament, 

Shot  thro'  the  lists  of  Camelot,  and  charged 

Before  the  eyes  of  ladies  and  of  kings. 

Then  loudly  cried  the  bold  Sir  Bedivere: 

"Ah!  my  Lord  Arthur,  whither  shall  I  go? 

Where  shall  I  hide  my  forehead  and  my  eyes? 

For  now  I  see  the  true  old  times  are  dead, 

"When  every  morning  brought  a  noble  chance, 

And  every  chance  brought  out  a  noble  knight. 

Such  times  have  been  not  since  the  light  that  led 

The  holy  Elders  with  the  gift  of  myrrh. 

But  now  the  whole  Bound  Table  is  dissolved 

Which  was  an  image  of  the  mighty  world, 

And  I,  the  last,  go  forth  companionless. 

And  the  days  darken  round  me,  and  the  years. 

Among  new  men,  strange  faces,  other  minds." 


76  THE  PASSING  OF  ABTHUIt. 

And  slowly  answered  Arthur  from  the  barge : 

"  The  old  order  changeth,  yielding  place  to  new, 

And  God  fulfils  himself  in  many  ways, 

Lest  one  good  custom  should  corrupt  the  world. 

Comfort  thyself :  what  comfort  is  in  me  ? 

I  have  lived  my  life,  and  that  which  I  have  done 

May  He  within  himself  make  pure !  but  thou, 

If  thou  shouldst  never  see  my  face  again, 

Pray  for  my  soul.     More  things  are  wrought  by  prayer 

Than  this  world  dreams  of.     Wherefore,  let  thy  voice 

Eise  like  a  fountain  for  me  night  and  day. 

For  what  are  men  better  than  sheep  or  goats 

That  nourish  a  blind  life  within  the  brain, 

If,  knowing  God,  they  lift  not  hands  of  prayer 

Both  for  themselves  and  those  who  call  them  friend  ? 

For  so  the  whole  round  earth  is  every  way 

Bound  by  gold  chains  about  the  feet  of  God. 

But  now  farewell.     I  am  going  a  long  way 

With  these  thou  seest  —  if  indeed  I  go 

(For  all  my  mind  is  clouded  with  a  doubt)  — 

To  the  island-valley  of  Avilion ; 

Where  falls  not  hail,  or  rain,  or  any  snow. 

Nor  ever  wind  blows  loudly ;  but  it  lies 

Deep-meadow 'd,  happy,  fair  with  orchard  lawns 

And  bowery  hollows  crown'd  with  summer  sea, 

Where  I  will  heal  me  of  my  grievous  wound." 

So  said  he,  and  the  barge  with  oar  and  sail 

Moved  from  the  brink,  like  some  full-breasted  swan 

That,  fluting  a  wild  carol  ere  her  death, 

Euffles  her  pure  cold  plume,  and  takes  the  flood 

With  swarthy  webs.     Long  stood  Sir  Bedivere 

Kevolving  many  memories,  till  the  hull 

Look'd  one  black  dot  against  the  verge  of  dawn, 

And  on  the  mere  the  wailing  died  away. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  77 

But  when  that  moan  had  past  for  evermore, 
The  stillness  of  the  dead  world's  winter  dawn 
Amazed  him,  and  he  groan'd,  "  The  King  is  gone." 
And  therewithal  came  on  him  the  weird  rhyme, 
"  From  the  great  deep  to  the  great  deep  he  goes.'' 

Whereat  he  slowly  turned  and  slowly  clomb 

The  last  hard  footstep  of  that  iron  crag ; 

Thence  mark'd  the  black  hull  moving  yet,  and  cried, 

"  He  passes  to  be  King  among  the  dead. 

And  after  healing  of  his  grievous  wound 

He  comes  again  j  but  —  if  he  come  no  more  — 

O  me,  be  yon  dark  .Queens  in  yon  black  boat. 

Who  shriek'd  and  waiPd,  the  three  whereat  we  gazed 

On  that  high  day,  when,  clothed  with  living  light, 

They  stood  before  his  throne  in  silence,  friends 

Of  Arthur,  who  should  help  him  at  his  need  ?  " 

Then  from  the  dawn  it  seem'd  there  came,  but  faint 
As  from  beyond  the  limit  of  the  world. 
Like  the  last  echo  born  of  a  great  cry. 
Sounds,  as  if  some  fair  city  were  one  voice 
Around  a  king  returning  from  his  wars. 

Thereat  once  more  he  moved  about,  and  clomb 
Ev'n  to  the  highest  he  could  climb,  and  saw. 
Straining  his  eyes  beneath  an  arch  of  hand, 
Or  thought  he  saw,  the  speck  that  bare  the  King, 
Down  that  long  water  opening  on  the  deep 
Somewhere  far  off,  pass  on  and  on,  and  go 
From  less  to  less  and  vanish  into  light. 
And  the  new  sun  rose  bringing  the  new  year. 


78  SIB  GALAHAD, 


SIR  GALAHAD. 

Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson. 

My  good  blade  carves  the  casques  of  men, 

My  tough  lance  thrusteth  sure, 
My  strength  is  as  the  strength  of  ten, 

Because  my  heart  is  pure. 
The  shattering  trumpet  shrilleth  high, 

The  hard  brands  shiver  on  the  steel. 
The  splinter'd  spear-shafts  crack  and  fly, 

The"  horse  and  rider  reel : 
They  reel,  they  roll  in  clanging  lists. 

And  when  the  tide  of  combat  stands. 
Perfume  and  flowers  fall  in  showers. 

That  lightly  rain  from  ladies'  hands. 

How  sweet  are  looks  that  ladies  bend     • 

On  whom  their  favors  fall! 
For  them  I  battle  till  the  end, 

To  save  from  shame  and  thrall: 
But  all  my  heart  is  drawn  above. 

My  knees  are  bow'd  in  crypt  and  shrine: 
I  never  felt  the  kiss  of  love, 

Nor  maiden's  hand  in  mine. 
More  bounteous  aspects  on  me  beam, 

Me  mightier  transports  move  and  thrill; 
So  keep  I  fair  thro'  faith  and  prayer 

A  virgin  heart  in  work  and  will. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  79 

When  down  the  stormy  crescent  goes, 

A  light  before  me  swims, 
Between  dark  stems  the  forest  glows, 

I  hear  a  noise  of  hymns : 
Then  by  some  secret  shrine  I  ride; 

I  hear  a  voice  but  none  are  there ; 
The  stalls  are  void,  the  doors  are  wide, 

The  tapers  burning  fair. 
Fair  gleams  the  snowy  altar-cloth. 

The  silver  vessels  sparkle  clean. 
The  shrill  bell  rings,  the  censer  swings, 

And  solemn  chaunts  resound  between. 

Sometimes  on  lonely  mountain-meres 

I  find  a  magic  bark ; 
I  leap  on  board:  no  helmsman  steers: 

I  float  till  all  is  dark. 
A  gentle  sound,  an  awful  light! 

Three  angels  bear  the  Holy  Grail: 
With  folded  feet,  in  stoles  of  white, 

On  sleeping  wings  they  sail. 
Ah,  blessed  vision !  blood  of  God ! 

My  spirit  beats  her  mortal  bars. 
As  down  dark  tides  the  glory  slides. 

And  star-like  mingles  with  the  stars. 

When  on  my  goodly  charger  borne 

Thro'  dreaming  towns  I  go. 
The  cock  crows  ere  the  Christmas  morn, 

The  streets  are  dumb  with  snow. 
The  tempest  crackles  on  the  leads. 

And,  ringing,  spins  from  brand  and  mail ; 
But  o'er  the  dark  a  glory  spreads. 

And  gilds  the  driving  hail. 


80  SIR   GALAHAD. 

I  leave  the  plain,  I  climb  the  height  j 
No  branchy  thicket  shelter  yields  j 

But  blessed  forms  in  whistling  storms 
Fly  o'er  waste  fens  and  windy  fields. 

A  maiden  knight  —  to  me  is  given 

Such  hope,  I  know  not  fear; 
I  yearn  to  breathe  the  airs  of  heaven 

That  often  meet  me  here. 
I  muse  on  joy  that  will  not  cease, 

Pure  spaces  clothed  in  living  beams, 
Pure  lilies  of  eternal  peace, 

Whose  odors  haunt  my  dreams; 
And,  stricken  by  an  angePs  hand, 

This  mortal  armor  that  I  wear, 
This  weight  and  size,  this  heart  and  eyes, 

Are  touch'd,  are  turn'd  to  finest  air. 

The  clouds  are  broken  in  the  sky, 

And  thro'  the  mountain- walls 
A  rolling  organ-harmony 

Swells  up,  and  shakes  and  falls. 
Then  move  the  trees,  the  copses  nod, 

Wings  flutter,  voices  hover  clear : 
"  O  just  and  faithful  knight  of  God  I 

Ride  on!  the  prize  is  near." 
So  pass  I  hostel,  hall,  and  grange ; 

By  bridge  and  ford,  by  park  and  pale, 
All-arm' d  I  ride,  whate'er  betide, 

Until  I  find  the  Holy  Grail. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  81 


VANITY    FAIR:    AND    THE    EXPERIENCES    OF 
CHRISTIAN  AND   FAITHFUL  THEREAT. 

From  The  Pilgrim's  Progrbss. 
John  Bunyan. 

So  Evangelist  began  as  followetli:  — 

"My  sons,  you  have  heard,  in  the  words  of  the  truth  of 
the  Gospel,  that  you  must,  through  many  tribulations,  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  And  again,  that  in  every  city 
bonds  and  aflBlictions  abide  in  youj  and  therefore  you  cannot 
expect  that  you  should  go  long  on  your  pilgrimage  without 
them,  in  some  sort  or  other.  You  have  found  something  of 
the  truth  of  these  testimonies  upon  you  already,  and  more 
will  immediately  follow;  for  now,  as  you  see,  you  are  almost 
out  of  this  wilderness,  and  therefore  you  will  soon  come  into 
a  town  that  you  will  by  and  by  see  before  you;  and  in  that 
town  you  will  be  hardly  beset  with  enemies,  who  will  strain 
hard  but  they  will  kill  you;  and  be  you  sure  that  one  or 
both  of  you  must  seal  the  testimony  which  you  hold  with 
blood ;  but  be  you  faithful  unto  death,  and  the  king  will  give 
you  a  crown  of  life.  He  that  shall  die  there,  although  his 
death  will  be  unnatural,  and  his  pain  perhaps  great,  he  will 
yet  have  the  better  of  his  fellow;  not  only  because  he  will 
be  arrived  at  the  celestial  city  soonest,  but  because  he 
will  escape  many  miseries  that  the  other  will  meet  with  in 
the  rest  of  his  journey.  But  when  you  are  come  to  the 
town,  and  shall  find  fulfilled  what  I  have  here  related,  then 
remember  your  friend,  and  quit  yourselves  like  men;  and 
commit  the  keeping  of  your  souls  to  your  God  in  well-doing, 
as  unto  a  faithful  creator." 


82  VANITY  FAIR. 

Then  I  saw  in  mj  dream,  that  when  they  were  got  out  of 
the  wilderness,  they  presently  saw  a  town  before  them,  and 
the  name  of  that  town  is  Vanity ;  and  at  the  town  there  is  a 
fair  kept,  called  Vanity  Fair.  It  is  kept  all  the  year  long; 
it  beareth  the  name  of  Vanity  Fair,  because  the  town  where 
His  kept  is  lighter  than  vanity;  and  also  because  all  that  is 
there  sold,  or  that  cometh  thither,  is  vanity.  As  is  the 
saying  of  the  wise,  "all  that  cometh  is  vanity." 

This  fair  is  no  new-erected  business,  but  a  thing  of 
ancient  standing;  I  will  show  you  the  original  of  it. 

Almost  five  thousand  years  agone,  there  were  pilgrims 
walking  to  the  celestial  city,  as  these  two  honest  persons  are. 
And  Beelzebub,  Apollyon,  and  Legion,  with  their  companions, 
perceiving  by  the  path  that  the  pilgrims  made,  that  their  way 
to  the  city  lay  through  this  town  of  Vanity,  they  contrived 
here  to  set  up  a  fair;  a  fair  wherein  should  be  sold  all  sorts 
of  vanity,  and  that  it  should  last  all  the  year  long;  therefore, 
at  this  fair,  are  all  such  merchandise  sold,  as  houses,  lands, 
trades,  places,  honors,  preferments,  titles,  countries,  king- 
doms, lusts,  pleasures;  and  delights  of  all  sorts,  as  .  .  . 
lives,  blood,  bodies,  souls,  silver,  gold,  pearls,  precious  stones, 
and  what  not. 

And,  moreover,  at  this  fair  there  is  at  all  times  to  be  seen 
jugglings,  cheats,  games,  plays,  fools,  apes,  knaves,  and  rogues, 
and  that  of  every  kind. 

Here  are  to  be  seen,  too,  and  that  for  nothing,  thefts,  mur- 
ders, adulteries,  false  swearers,  and  that  of  a  blood-red  color. 

And  as  in  other  fairs  of  less  moment,  there  are  the  several 
rows  and  streets,  under  their  proper  names,  where  such  and 
such  wares  are  vended;  so  here  likewise  you  have  the  proper 
places,  rows,  streets  (viz.  countries  and  kingdoms),  where  the 
wares  of  this  fair  are  soonest  to  be  found.  Here  is  the 
Britain  Kow,  the  French  Row,  the  Italian  Row,  the  Spanish 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  83 

Kow,  the  German  Kow,  where  several  sorts  of  vanities  are  to 
be  sold.  But,  as  in  other  fairs,  some  one  ccynmodity  is  as 
the  chief  of  all  the  fair,  so  the  ware  of  Vanity  and  her 
merchandise  is  greatly  promoted  in  this  fair;  only  our  Eng- 
lish nation,  with  some  others,  have  taken  a  dislike  thereat. 

Now,  as  I  said,  the  way  to  the  celestial  city  lies  just 
through  this  town  where  this  lusty  fair  is  kept;  and  he  that 
will  go  to  the  city,  and  yet  not  go  through  this  town,  must 
needs  "go  out  of  the  world."  The  prince  of  princes  himself, 
when  here,  went  through  this  town  to  his  own  country,  and 
that  upon  a  fair-day  too;  yea,  and  as  I  think,  it  was  Beelze- 
bub, the  chief  lord  of  this  fair,  that  invited  him  to  buy  of 
his  vanities;  yea,  would  have  made  him  lord  of  the  fair, 
would  he  have  but  done  him  reverence  as  he  went  through 
the  town.  Yea,  because  he  was  such  a  person  of  honor, 
Beelzebub  had  him  from  street  to  street,  and  showed  him  all 
the  kingdoms  of  the  world  in  a  little  time,  that  he  might,  if 
possible,  allure  that  blessed  one  to  cheapen  and  buy  some  of 
his  vanities;  but  he  had  no  mind  to  the  merchandise,  and 
therefore  left  the  town,  without  laying  out  so  much  as  one 
farthing  upon  these  vanities.  This  fair,  therefore,  is  an 
ancient  thing,  of  long  standing,  and  a  very  great  fair. 

Now  these  pilgrims,  as  I  said,  must  needs  go  through  this 
fair.  Well,  so  they  did;  but,  behold,  even  as  they  entered 
into  the  fair,  all  the  people  in  the  fair  were  moved,  and  the 
town  itself,  as  it  were,  in  a  hubbub  about  them;  and  that 
for  several  reasons :  for, 

First :  The  pilgrims  were  clothed  with  such  kind  of  raiment 
as  was  diverse  from  the  raiment  of  any  that  traded  in  that 
fair.  The  people,  therefore,  of  the  fair,  made  a  great  gazing 
upon  them :  some  said  they  were  foOls,  some  they  were  bed- 
lams, and  some  they  were  outlandish-men. 

Secondly:  And  as  they  wondered  at  their  apparel,  so  they 


84  VANITY  FAIR. 

did  likewise  at  their  speech;  for  few  could  understand  what 
they  said.  They  naturally  spoke  the  language  of  Canaan, 
but  they  that  kept  the  fair  were  the  men  of  this  world;  so 
that  from  one  end  of  the  fair  to  the  other,  they  seemed 
barbarians  each  to  the  other. 

Thirdly:  But  that  which  did  not  a  little  amuse  the  mer- 
chandisers, was  that  these  pilgrims  set  very  light  by  all  their 
wares ;  they  cared  not  so  much  as  to  look  upon  them ;  and  if 
they  called  upon  them  to  buy,  they  would  put  their  fingers  in 
their  ears,  and  cry,  "Turn  away  mine  eyes  from  beholding 
vanity,"  and  look  upwards,  signifying  that  their  trade  and 
traffic  was  in  Heaven. 

One  chanced,  mockingly,  beholding  the  carriage  of  the 
men,  to  say  unto  them,  "What  will  ye  buy?"  But  they, 
looking  gravely  upon  him,  answered,  "We  buy  the  truth." 
At  that  there  was  an  occasion  taken  to  despise  the  men  the 
more;  some  mocking,  some  taunting,  some  speaking  reproach- 
fully, and  some  calling  upon  others  to  smite  them.  At  last 
things  came  to  a  hubbub  and  great  stir  in  the  fair,  insomuch 
that  all  order  was  confounded.  Now  was  word  presently 
brought  to  the  great  one  of  the  fair,  who  quickly  came  down, 
and  deputed  some  of  his  most  trusty  friends  to  take  these 
men  into  examination,  about  whom  the  fair  was  almost  over- 
turned. So  the  men  were  brought  to  examination ;  and  they 
that  sat  upon  them,  asked  them  whence  they  came,  whither 
they  went,  and  what  they  did  there,  in  such  unusual  garb? 
The  men  told  them  that  they  were  pilgrims,  and  strangers  in 
the  world,  and  that  they  were  going  to  their  own  country, 
which  was  the  heavenly  Jerusalem ;  and  that  they  had  given 
none  occasion  to  the  men  of  the  town,  nOr  yet  to  the  mer- 
chandisers, thus  to  abuse  them,  and  to  let  them  in  their 
journey,  except  it  was  for  that,  when  one  asked  them  what 
they  would  buy,  they  said  ^^ey  would  buy  the  truth.     But 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  85 

they  that  were  appointed  to  examine  them,  did  not  believe 
them  to  be  any  other  than  bedlams,  and  mad,  or  else  such  as 
came  to  put  all  things  into  a  confusion  in  the  fair.  There- 
fore they  took  them  and  beat  them,  and  besmeared  them  with 
dirt,  and  then  put  them  into  the  cage,  that  they  might  be 
made  a  spectacle  to  all  the  men  of  the  fair. 

There,  therefore,  they  lay  for  some  time,  and  were  made 
the  objects  of  any  man's  sport,  or  malice,  or  revenge,  the 
great  one  of  the  fair  laughing  still  at  all  that  befell  them. 
But  the  men  being  patient,  and  not  rendering  railing  for 
railing,  but  contrariwise,  blessing,  and  giving  good  words  for 
bad,  and  kindness  for  injuries  done,  some  men  in  the  fair  that 
were  more  observing,  and  less  prejudiced  than  the  rest,  began 
to  check  and  blame  the  baser  sort  for  the  continual  abuses 
done  by  them  to  the  men;  they,  therefore,  in  angry  manner, 
let  fly  at  them  again,  counting  them  as  bad  as  the  men  in  the 
cage,  and  telling  them  that  they  seemed  confederates,  and 
should  be  made  partakers  of  their  misfortunes.  The  others 
replied,  that  for  aught  they  could  see,  the  men  were  quiet 
and  sober,  and  intended  nobody  any  harm;  and  that  there 
were  many  that  traded  in  their  fair  that  were  more  worthy 
to  be  put  into  the  cage,  yea,  and  pillory  too,  than  were  the 
men  that  they  had  abused.  Thus,  after  divers  words  had 
passed  on  both  sides,  (the  men  behaving  themselves  all  the 
while  very  wisely  and  soberly  before  them,)  they  fell  to  some 
blows  and  did  harm  one  to  another.  Then  were  these  two 
poor  men  brought  before  their  examiners  again,  and  there 
charged  as  being  guilty  of  the  late  hubbub  that  had  been  in 
the  fair.  So  they  beat  them  pitifully,  and  hanged  irons  upon 
them,  and  led  them  in  chains  up  and  down  the  fair,  for  an 
example  and  a  terror  to  others,  lest  any  should  further 
speak  in  their  behalf,  or  join  themselves  unto  them.  But 
Christian  and  Faithful  behaved  themselves  yet  more  wisely, 


86  VANITY  FAIR. 

and  received  the  ignominy  and  shame  that  was  cast  upon 
them,  with  so  much  meekness  and  patience,  that  it  won  to 
their  side,  though  but  few  in  comparison  of  the  rest,  several 
of  the  men  in  the  fair.  This  put  the  other  party  yet  into 
greater  rage,  insomuch  that  they  concluded  the  death  of  these 
two  men.  Wherefore  they  threatened  that  the  cage  nor 
irons  should  serve  their  turn,  but  that  they  should  die,  for 
the  abuse  they  had  done,  and  for  deluding  the  men  of  the 
fair. 

Then  were  th^y  remanded  to  the  cage  again  until  further 
order  should  be  taken  with  them.  So  they  put  them  in,  and 
made  their  feet  fast  in  the  stocks. 

Here  also  they  called  again  to  mind  what  they  had 
heard  from  their  faithful  friend,  Evangelist,  and  were  the 
more  confirmed  in  their  way  and  sufferings,  by  what  he  told 
them  would  happen  to  them.  They  also  now  comforted  each 
other,  that  whose  lot  it  was  to  suffer,  even  he  should  have 
the  best  of  it;  therefore  each  man  secretly  wished  that  he 
might  have  that  preferment:  but  committing  themselves  to 
the  All-wise  dispose  of  Him  that  ruleth  all  things,  with 
much  content,  they  abode  in  the  condition  in  which  they 
were,  until  they  should  be  otherwise  disposed  of. 

Then  a  convenient  time  being  appointed,  they  brought 
them  forth  to  their  trial,  in  order  to  their  condemnation. 
When  the  time  was  come,  they  were  brought  before  their 
enemies  and  arraigned.  The  judge's  name  was  Lord  Hate- 
good.  Their  indictment  was  one  and  the  same  in  substance, 
though  somewhat  varying  in  form ;  the  contents  whereof  were 
this  — 

"  That  they  were  enemies  to  and  disturbers  of  their  trade ; 
that  they  had  made  commotions  and  divisions  in  the  town, 
and  had  won  a  party  to  their  own  most  dangerous  opinions, 
in  contempt  of  the  law  of  their  prince." 


**The  Judge's  Name  was  Lord  Hategood," 

After  the  drawing  by  Fred.  Barnard. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  87 

Then  Faithful  began  to  answer,  that  he  had  only  set 
himself  against  that  which  had  set  itself  against  Him  that 
is  higher  than  the  highest.  "  And, "  said  he,  "  as  for  disturb- 
ance, I  make  none,  being  myself  a  man  of  peace ;  the  parties 
that  were  won  to  us,  were  won  by  beholding  our  truth  and 
innocence,  and  they  are  only  turned  from  the  worse  to  the 
better.  And  as  to  the  king  you  talk  of,  since  he  is  Beelze- 
bub, the  enemy  of  our  Lord,  I  defy  him  and  all  his  angels." 

Then  proclamation  was  made,  that  they  that  had  aught  to 
say  for  their  lord  the  king  against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar, 
should  forthwith  appear  and  give  in  their  evidence.  So  there 
came  in  three  witnesses,  to  wit.  Envy,  Superstition,  and 
Pickthank.  They  were  then  asked  if  they  knew  the  prisoner 
at  the  bar ;  and  what  they  had  to  say  for  their  lord  the  king 
against  him. 

Then  stood  forth  Envy,  and  said  to  this  effect :  "  My  lord, 
I  have  known  this  man  a  long  time,  and  will  attest  upon  my 
oath  before  this  honorable  bench,  that  he  is  — 
.  Judge.    "Hold!    Give  him  his  oath."     So  they  sware  him. 
Then  he  said  — 

"My  lord,  this  man,  notwithstanding  his  plausible  name, 
is  one  of  the  vilest  men  in  our  country.  He  neither 
regardeth  prince  nor  people,  law  nor  custom;  but  doth  all 
that  he  can  to  possess  all  men  with  certain  of  his  disloyal 
notions,  which  he,  in  the  general,  calls  principles  of  faith 
and  holiness.  And,  in  particular,  I  heard  him  once  myself 
affirm  that  Christianity  and  the  customs  of  our  town,  of 
Vanity  were  diametrically  opposite,  and  could  not  be  recon- 
ciled. By  which  saying,  my  lord,  he  doth  at  once  not  only 
condemn  all  our  laudable  doings,  but  us  in  the  doing  of 
them." 

Then  did  the  judge  say  to  him,  "Hast  thou  any  more  to 
say?" 


88  VANITY  FAIR. 

Envy.  "My  lord,  I  could  say  much  more,  only  I  would 
not  be  tedious  to  the  court.  Yet,  if  need  be,  when  the  other 
gentlemen  have  given  in  their  evidence,  rather  than  anything 
shall  be  wanting  that  will  despatch  him,  I  will  enlarge  my 
testimony  against  him."     So  he  was  bid  to  stand  by. 

Then  they  called  Superstition,  and  bid  him  look  upon  the 
prisoner.  They  also  asked  what  he  could  say  for  their  lord 
the  king  against  him.     Then  they  sware  him;  so  he  began. 

Super.  "  My  lord,  I  have  no  great  acquaintance  with  this  man, 
nor  do  I  desire  to  have  further  knowledge  of  him;  however, 
this  I  know,  that  he  is  a  very  pestilent  fellow,  from  some 
discourse  that,  the  other  day,  I  had  with  him  in  this  town; 
for  then,  talking  with  him,  I  heard  him  say  that  our  religion 
was  nought,  and  such  by  which  a  man  could  by  no  means 
please  God.  Which  sayings  of  his,  my  lord,  your  lordship 
very  well  knows,  what  necessarily  thence  will  follow,  to  wit, 
that  we  still  do  worship  in  vain,  are  yet  in  our  sins,  and 
finally  shall  be  damned;  and  this  is  that  which  I  have  to 
say." 

Then  was  Pickthank  sworn,  and  bid  say  what  he  knew,  in 
behalf  of  their  lord  the  king,  against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 

Pickthank.  "  My  lord,  and  you  gentlemen  all,  this  fellow  I 
have  known  of  a  long  time,  and  have  heard  him  speak  things 
that  ought  not  to  be  spoke;  for  he  hath  railed  on  our  noble 
prince  Beelzebub,  and  hath  spoken  contemptibly  of  his 
honorable  friends,  whose  names  are  the  lord  Old  Man,  the 
lord  Carnal  Delight,  the  lord  Luxurious,  the  lord  Desire  of 
Vain  Glory,  my  old  lord  Lechery,  Sir  Having  Greedy,  with 
all  the  rest  of  our  nobility ;  and  he  hath  said,  moreover,  that 
if  all  men  were  of  his  mind,  if  possible,  there  is  not  one  of 
these  noblemen  should  have  any  longer  a  being  in  this  town. 
Besides,  he  hath  not  been  afraid  to  rail  on  you,  my  lord,  who 
are  now  appointed  to  be  his  judge,  calling  you  an  ungodly 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  89 

villain,  with  many  other  such  like  vilifying  terms,  with  which 
he  hath  bespattered  most  of  the  gentry  of  our  town." 

When  this  Pickthank  had  told  his  tale,  the  judge  directed 
his  speech  to  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  saying,  "Thou  runa- 
gate, heretic,  and  traitor,  hast  thou  heard  what  these  honest 
gentlemen  have  witnessed  against  thee  ?  " 

Faithful.    "  May  I  speak  a  few  words  in  my  own  defence  ?  " 

Judge.  "  Sirrah !  sirrah  !  thou  deservest  to  live  no  longer, 
but  to  be  slain  immediately  upon  the  place ;  yet,  that  all  men 
may  see  our  gentleness  towards  thee,  let  us  see  what  thou  hast 
to  say." 

Faithful.  1.  "  I  say,  then,  in  answer  to  what  Mr.  Envy  hath 
spoken,  I  never  said  aught  but  this,  that  what  rule,  or  laws, 
or  custom,  or  people,  were  flat  against  the  word  of  God,  are 
diametrically  opposite  to  Christianity.  If  I  have  said  amiss 
in  this,  convince  me  of  my  error,  and  I  am  ready  here  before 
you  to  make  my  recantation. 

2.  "As  to  the  second,  to  wit,  Mr.  Superstition,  and  his 
charge  against  me,  I  said  only  this,  that  in  the  worship  of  God 
there  is  required  a  divine  faith ;  but  there  can  be  no  divine 
faith  without  a  divine  revelation  of  the  will  of  God.  There- 
fore, whatever  is  thrust  into  the  worship  of  God,  that  is  not 
agreeable  to  divine  revelation,  cannot  be  done  but  by  a  human 
faith,  which  faith  will  not  be  profitable  to  eternal  life. 

3.  "As  to  what  Mr.  Pickthank  hath  said,  I  say  (avoiding 
terms,  as  that  I  am  said  to  rail,  and  the  like),  that  the  prince 
of  this  town,  with  all  the  rabblement,  his  attendants,  by  this 
gentleman  named,  are  more  fit  for  a  being  in  hell,  than  in 
this  town  and  country :  and  so  the  Lord  have  mercy  upon 
me!" 

Then  the  judge  called  to  the  jury  (who  all  this  while 
stood  by,  to  hear  and  observe)  :  "  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  you 
see  this  man  about  whom  so  great  an  uproar  hath  been  made 


90  VANITY  FAIR. 

in  this  town.  You  have  also  heard  what  these  worthy  gen- 
tlemen have  witnessed  against  him.  Also  you  have  heard 
his  reply  and  confession.  It  lieth  now  in  your  breasts  to 
hang  him  or  save  his  life;  but  yet  I  think  meet  to  instruct 
you  into  our  law. 

"  There  was  an  act  made  in  the  days  of  Pharaoh  the  Great, 
servant  to  our  prince,  that,  lest  those  of  a  contrary  religion 
should  multiply  and  grow  too  strong  for  him,  their  males 
should  be  thrown  into  the  river.  There  was  also  an  act 
made  in  the  days  of  Nebuchadnezzar  the  Great,  another  of 
his  servants,  that  whosoever  would  not  fall  down  and  worship 
his  golden  image,  should  be  thrown  into  a  fiery  furnace. 

"There  was  also  an  act  made  in  the  days  of  Darius,  that 
whoso,  for  some  time,  called  upon  any  god  but  him,  should 
be  cast  into  the  lions'  den.  Now  the  substance  of  these 
laws,  this  rebel  has  broken,  not  only  in  thought  (which  is  not 
to  be  borne),  but  also  in  word  and  deedj  which  must  there- 
fore needs  be  intolerable. 

"  For  that  of  Pharaoh,  his  law  was  made  upon  a  supposi- 
tion, to  prevent  mischief,  no  crime  being  yet  apparent;  but 
here  is  a  crime  apparent.  For  the  second  and  third,  you  see 
he  disputed  against  our  religion ;  and  for  the  treason  he  hath 
confessed,  he  deserveth  to  die  the  death." 

Then  went  the  jury  out,  whose  names  were  Mr.  Blind-man, 
Mr.  No-good,  Mr.  Malice,  Mr.  Love-lust,  Mr.  Live-loose, 
Mr.  Heady,  Mr.  High-mind,  Mr.  Enmity,  Mr.  Liar,  Mr. 
Cruelty,  Mr.  Hate-light,  and  Mr.  Implacable;  who  every 
one  gave  in  his  private  verdict  against  him  among  them- 
selves, and  afterwards  unanimously  concluded  to  bring  him 
in  guilty  before  the  judge.  And  first,  among  themselves,  Mr. 
Blind-man,  the  foreman,  said,  "  I  see  clearly  that  this  man  is 
an  heretic."  Then  said  Mr.  No-good,  "Away  with  such  a 
fellow  from  the  earth,"    "  Av,"  said  Mr,  Malice.  "  for  I  hate 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  91 

the  very  looks  of  him."  "Then,"  said  Mr.  Love-lust,  "I 
could  never  endure  him."  "Nor  I,"  said  Mr.  Live-loose, 
"for  he  would  always  be  condemning  my  way."  "Hang 
him,  hang  him,"  said  Mr.  Heady.  "A  sorry  scrub,"  said 
Mr.  High-mind.  "My  heart  riseth  against  him,"  said  Mr. 
Enmity.  "He  is  a  rogue,"  said  Mr.  Liar.  "Hanging  is  too 
good  for  him,"  said  Mr.  Cruelty.  "Let  us  despatch  him  out 
of  the  way,"  said  Mr.  Hate-light.  "Then,"  said  Mr.  Implac- 
able, "  might  I  have  all  the  world  given  me,  I  could  not  be 
reconciled  to  him;  therefore,  let  us  forthwith  bring  him  in 
guilty  of  death."  And  so  they  did;  therefore  he  was  pres- 
ently condemned  to  be  had  from  the  place  where  he  was,  to 
the  place  from  whence  he  came,  and  there  to  be  put  to  the 
most  cruel  death  that  could  be  invented. 

They  therefore  brought  him  out,  to  do  with  him  according 
to  their  law;  and,  first,  they  scourged  him,  then  they 
buffeted  him,  then  they  lanced  his  flesh  with  knives;  after 
that,  they  stoned  him  with  stones,  then  pricked  him  with 
their  swords;  and,  last  of  all,  they  burned  him  to  ashes  at 
the  stake.     Thus  came  Faithful  to  his  end. 

Now  I  saw  that  there  stood  behind  the  multitude  a  chariot 
and  a  couple  of  horses,  waiting  for  Faithful,  who  (so  soon  as 
his  adversaries  had  despatched  him)  was  taken  up  into  it,  and 
straightway  was  carried  up  through  the  clouds,  with  sound 
of  trumpet,  the  nearest  way  to  the  Celestial  Gate. 

But  as  for  Christian,  he  had  some  respite,  and  was  re- 
manded back  to  prison.  So  he  there  remained  for  a  space; 
but  He  that  overrules  all  things,  having  the  power  of  their 
rage  in  His  own  hand,  so  wrought  it  about,  that  Christian 
for  that  time  escaped  them,  and  went  his  way. 


92  THE  DEATH  OF  C^SAB, 

WILL  YOU  BUY  ANY  TAPE? 

From  The  Winter's  Tale. 
William  Shakespeare. 

Will  you  buy  any  tape, 

Or  lace  for  your  cape, 
My  dainty  duck,  my  dear-a? 

Any  silk,  any  thread. 

Any  toys  for  your  head. 
Of  the  newest,  and  fin'st,  finest  wear-a? 

Come  to  the  pedlar; 

Money's  a  medler. 
That  doth  utter  all  men's  ware-a. 


THE  DEATH  OF   C^SAR. 

Translated  out  of  the  Greek  of  Plutarch  into  French  by  James  Amiot^ 
Bishop  of  Auxerre  and  Great  Almoner  of  France^  and  out  of  French 
into  English  by  Sir  Thomas  North,  Knight.^ 

But  the  chiefest  cause  that  made  Caesar  mortally  hated, 

was  the  covetous  desire  he  had  to  be  called  king  which  first 

gave  the  people  just  cause,  and  next  his  secret 

why  Caesar      enemies  honest  color  to  bear  him  ill  will.     This 
was  hated. 

notwithstanding,    they   that    procured    him    this 

honor  and  dignity  gave  it  out  among  the  people,  that  it  was 

written  in  the  Sybilline  prophesies,  how  the  Romans  might 

overcome  the  Parthians,  if  they  made  war  with  them,  and  were 

led  by  a  king,  but  otherwise  that  they  were  unconquerable. 

1  From  North's  translation,  first  published  in  1579,  Shakespeare  is  said  to 
have  taken  his  material  for  the  tragedy  of  Julius  CsBsar.  It  will  be  seen  from 
this  selection  that  he  followed  Plutarch  not  only  in  the  main  events  and 
details  of  the  action,  but  often  the  spirit  and  phrasing  of  the  English  version. 


TBS  BEAttf  OP  OAK  hOOKS,  SS 

And  furthermore  they  were  so  bold  besides,  that  Caesar 
returning  to  Rome  from  the  city  of  Alba,  when  they  came  to 
salute  him,  they  called  him  king.  But  the  people  being 
offended,  and  Caesar  also  angry,  he  said  he  was  not  called 
king,  but  Caesar.  Then  every  man  keeping  silence,  he  went 
his  way  heavy  and  sorrowful.  When  they  had  decreed 
divers  honors  for  him  in  the  senate,  the  consuls  and  praetors, 
accompanied  with  the  whole  assembly  of  the  senate,  went 
unto  him  in  the  market-place,  where  he  was  set  by  the  pulpit 
for  orations,  to  tell  him  what  honors  they  had  decreed  for  him 
in  his  absence.  But  he  sitting  still  in  his  majesty,  disdain- 
ing to  rise  up  unto  them  when  they  came  in,  as  if  they  had 
been  private  men,  answered  them :  that  his  honors  had  more 
need  to  be  cut  off  than  enlarged.  This  did  not  only  offend 
the  senate,  but  the  common  people  also,  to  see  that  he  should 
so  lightly  esteem  of  the  magistrates  of  the  commonwealth: 
insomuch  as  every  man  that  might  lawfully  go  his  way, 
departed  thence  very  sorrowfully.  Thereupon  also  Caesar  ris- 
ing, departed  home  to  his  house,  and  tearing  open  his  doublet 
collar,  making  his  neck  bare,  he  cried  out  aloud  to  his  friends 
that  his  throat  was  ready  to  offer  to  any  man  that  would  come 
and  cut  it.  Notwithstanding,  it  is  reported  that  afterwards, 
to  excuse  his  folly,  he  imputed  it  to  his  disease,  saying  that 
their  wits  are  not  perfect  which  have  this  disease  of  the  fall- 
ing-evil when  standing  on  their  feet  they  speak  to  the  com-' 
mon  people,  but  are  soon  troubled  with  a  trembling  of  their 
body,  and  a  sudden  dimness  and  giddiness.  But  that  was 
not  true,  for  he  would  have  risen  up  to  the  senate,  but  Cor- 
nelius Balbus,  one  of  his  friends  (but  rather  a  flatterer),  would 
not  let  him,  saying :  "  What !  do  you  not  remember  that  you 
are  Caesar,  and  will  you  not  let  them  reverence  you,  and  do 
their  duties?"  Besides  these  occasions  and  offences  there 
followed  also  his  shame  and  reproach,  abusing  the  tribunes  of 
the  people  in  this  sort.     At  that  time  the  feast  Lupercalia 


94  THE  DEATH  OF  C^SAR. 

was  celebrated,  the  which  in  old  times,  men  say,  was  the  feast 

of  sTiepherds  or  herdsmen,  and  is  much  like  unto  the  feast  of 

the  Lycsea  in  Arcadia.     But  howsoever  it  is,  that 

The  feast  ^  there  are  divers  noblemen's  sons,  young 
Lnpercalia.  "^  .  i  i 

men,   (and  some  of  them  magistrates  themselves 

that  govern  then,)  which  run  naked  through  the  city,  striking 

in  sport  them  they  meet  in  their  way,  with  leathern  thongs, 

hair  and  all  on,  to  make  them  give  place.  .  .  .     Caesar  sate  to 

behold  that  sport  upon  the  pulpit  for  orations,  in  a  chair  of 

gold,  apparelled  in  triumphing  manner.  Antonius, 
being  consnl,  who  was  consul  at  that  time,  was  one  of  them  that 
was  one  of  the  p^n  this  holy  course.     So  when  he  came  into  the 

market-place,  the  people  made  a  lane  for  him  to 
prwented  the  ^^^  ^*  liberty,  and  he  came  to  Caesar  and  presented 
diadem  to  him  a  diadem  wreathed  about  with  laurel.  Where- 
Offlsar.  upon  there  rose  a  certain  cry  and  rejoicing,  not  very 

great,  done  only  by  a  few  appointed  for  the  purpose.  But  when 
Csesar  refused  the  diadem,  then  all  the  people  together  made 
an  outcry  of  joy.  Then  Antonius  offering  it  him  again,  there 
was  a  second  shout  of  joy,  but  yet  of  a  few.  But  when  Caesar 
refused  it  again  the  second  time,  then  all  the  whole  people 
shouted.  Caesar  having  made  this  proof,  found  that  the  peo- 
ple did  not  like  of  it,  and  thereupon  rose  out  of  his  chair,  and 
commanded  the  crown  to  be  carried  unto  Jupitei-  in  the  Capi- 
tol. After  that  there  were  set  up  images  of  Caesar  in  the  city, 
with  diadems  upon  their  heads  like  kings.  Those,  the  two 
tribunes.  Flavins  and  Marullus,  went  and  pulled  down,  and 
furthermore,  meeting  with  them  that  first  saluted  Caesar  as 
king,  they  committed  them  to  prison.  The  people  followed 
them  rejoicing  at  it,  and  called  them  Bruti,  because  of  Brutus, 
who  had  in  old  time  driven  the  kings  out  of  Kome,  and 
brought  the  kingdom  of  one  person  unto  the  government  of 
the  senate  and  the  people.     Caesar  was  so  offended  withal, 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  95 

that  he  deprived  Marullus  and  Flavins  of  their  tribuneships, 
and  accusing  them,  he  spake  also  against  the  people  and  called 
them  Bruti  and  Cumcni,  to  wit,  beasts  and  fools.  Hereupon 
the  people  went  straight  unto  Marcus  Brutus,  who 
from  his  father  came  of  the  first  Brutus,  and  by  jjarcus  Bm- 
his  mother  of  the  house  of  the  Servilii,  a  noble  tus'  life,  after 
house  as  any  was  in  Kome,  and  was  also  nephew  *  ®  ***  ®  ° 
and  son-in-law  of  Marcus  Cato.  Notwithstanding, 
the  great  honors  and  favor  Caesar  shewed  unto  him  kept  him 
back  that  of  himself  alone  he  did  not  conspire  nor  consent  to 
depose  him  of  his  kingdom.  For  Caesar  did  not  only  save  his 
life  after  the  battle  of  Pharsalia  when  Pompey  fled,  and  did 
at  his  request  also  save  many  more  of  his  friends  besides :  but 
furthermore,  he  put  a  marvellous  confidence  in  him.  For  he 
had  already  preferred  him  to  the  praetorship  for  that  year, 
and  furthermore  was  appointed  to  be  consul  the  fourth  year 
after  that,  having  through  Caesar's  friendship  obtained  it 
before  Cassius,  who  likewise  made  suit  for  the  same:  and 
Caesar  also,  as  it  is  reported,  said  in  this  contention,  "  Indeed 
Cassius  hath  alleged  best  reason,  but  yet  shall  he  not  be 
chosen  before  Brutus."  Some  one  day  accusing  Brutus  while 
he  practised  this  conspiracy,  Caesar  would  not  hear  -q^^^^ 
of  it,  but  clapping  his  hand  on  his  body  told  them,  conspireth 
"  Brutus  will  look  for  this  skin  " :  meaning  thereby  against  Caesar, 
that  Brutus  for  his  virtue  deserved  to  rule  after  him,  but  yet 
that  for  ambition's  sake,  he  would  not  shew  himself  unthank- 
ful or  dishonorable.  Now  they  that  desired  change,  and 
wished  Brutus  only  their  prince  and  governor  above  all  other, 
they  durst  not  come  to  him  themselves  to  tell  him  what  they 
would  have  him  to  do,  but  in  the  night  did  cast  sundry  papers 
into  the  praetor's  seat,  where  he  gave  audience,  and  the  most 
of  them  to  this  effect:  "Thou  sleepest  Brutus,  and  art  not 
Brutus  indeed."     Cassius  finding  Brutus'  ambition  stirred  up 


96  THE  DEATH  OF  C^SAR. 

the  more  by  these  seditious  bills,  did  prick  him  forward  and 
edge  him  on  the  more  for  a  private  quarrel  he  had  conceived 
C  ■  stir-  against  Caesar :  the  circumstance  whereof  we  have 
reth  up  BrutQs  set  down  at  large  in  Brutus'  life.  Caesar  also  had 
against  Caesar,  ^assius  in  great  jealousy,  and  suspected  him 
much :  whereupon  he  said  on  a  time  to  his  friends :  "  What 
will  Cassius  do,  think  ye?  I  like  not  his  pale  looks!  "  An- 
other time  when  Caesar's  friends  complained  unto  him  of 
Antonius  and  Dolabella,  that,  they  pretended  some  mischief 
towards  him,  he  answered  them  again:  "As  for  those  fat  men 
and  smooth-combed  heads,"  quoth  he,  "I  never  reckon  of 
them ;  but  these  pale-visaged  and  carrion-lean  people,  I  fear 
them  most,"  meaning  Brutus  and  Cassius.  Certainly  destiny 
may  easier  be  foreseen  than  avoided,  considering  the  strange 

^   ,.   .  and  wonderful   signs  that  were  said  to  be  seen 

Fredictions 

and  foreshews    before  Caesar's  death.     For,  touching  the  fires  in 

of  Caesar's         the  element,  and  spirits  running  up  and  down  in 

***  ■  the  night,  and  also  the  solitary  birds  to  be  seen  at 

noondays  sitting  in  the  great  market-place,  are  not  all  these 

signs  perhaps  worth  the  noting,  in  such  a  wonderful  chance  as 

happened?    But  Strabo,  the  philosopher,  writeth  that  divers 

men  were  seen  going  up  and  down  in  fire ;  and  furthermore,  that 

there  was  a  slave  of  the  soldiers  that  did  cast  a  marvellous 

burning  flame  out  of  his  hand,  insomuch  as  they  that  saw  it 

thought  he  had  been  burnt;  when  the  fire  was  out  it  was  found 

he  had  no  hurt.     Caesar's  self  also  doing  sacrifice  unto  the 

gods  found  that  one  of  the  beasts  which  was  sacrificed  had  no 

heart;  and  that  was  a  strange  thing  in  nature: 

of  death  prog-    ^ow  a  beast  could  live  without  a  heart.     Further- 

nostioated  by     more  there  was  a  certain  soothsayer  that  had  given 

a  soot  sayer.     Qg^^^j.  earning  long  time  afore  to  take  heed  of  the 

ides  of  March  (which  is  the  fifteenth  of  the  month),  for  on  that 

day  he  should  be  in  great  danger.     That  day  being  come,  Caesar 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  97 

going  unto  the  senate -house,  and  speaking  merrily  unto  the 
soothsayer,  told  him  the  ides  of  March  be  come:  "So  they 
be,"  softly  answered  the  soothsayer,  "but  yet  are  they  not 
passed."  And  the  very  day  before, Caesar,  supping  with  Mar- 
cus Lepidus,  sealed  certain  letters  as  he  was  wont  to  do  at  the 
board:  so  talk  falling  out  amongst  them,  reasoning  what 
death  was  best,  he  preventing  their  opinions,  cried  out  aloud : 
"Death  unlooked  for."  Then  going  to  bed  the  same  night, 
all  the  windows  and  doors  of  his  chamber  flying  open,  the 
noise  awoke  him,  and  made  him  afraid  when  he  saw  such 
light;  but  more  when  he  heard  his  wife,  Calpurnia,  being  fast 
asleep,  weep  and  sigh,  and  put  forth  many  fum-  ,^^^  ^^^^  ^^ 
bling  lamentable  speeches;  for  she  dreamed  that  Calpurnia, 
Csesar  was  slain.  Others  also  do  deny  that  she  ^^^^"^'^  ^^^®' 
had  any  such  dream,  as,  amongst  others,  Titus  Livius, 
writeth  that  it  was  in  this  sort.  The  senate  having  set  upon 
the  top  of  Caesar's  house, for  an  ornament  and  setting  forth  of 
the  same,  a  certain  pinnacle,  Calpurnia  dreamed  that  she  saw 
it  broken  down  and  that  she  thought  she  lamented  and  wept 
for  it.  Insomuch  that  Caesar  rising  in  the  morning,  she  prayed 
him  if  it  were  possible  not  to  go  out  of  the  doors  that  day, 
but  to  adjourn,  the  session  of  the  senate  until  another  day. 
And  if  that  he  made  no  reckoning  of  her  dream,  yet  that  he 
would  search  further  of  the  soothsayers  by  their  sacrifices  to 
know  what  should  happen  to  him  that  day.  Thereby  it 
seemed  that  Caesar  likewise  did  fear  and  suspect  somewhat, 
because  his  wife  Calpurnia  until  that  time  was  never  given 
to  any  fear  and  superstition :  and  then,  for  that  he  saw  her  so 
troubled  in  mind  with  this  dream  she  had.  But  much  more 
afterwards,  when  the  soothsayers  having  sacrificed  many 
beasts  one  after  another,  told  him  that  none  did  like  them : 
then  he  determined  to  send  Antonius  to  adjourn  the  session 
of  the  senate.     But  in  the  meantime   came   Decius   Brutus, 


98  THE  DEATH  OF  CjESAB. 

surnamed  Albinus,  in  whom  Caesar  put  such  confidence  that 
in  his  last  will  and  testament  he  had  appointed  him  to  be 

his  next  heir,  and  yet  was  of  the  conspiracy  with 
Albinus'  per-  Cassius  and  Brutus :  he  fearing  that  if  Caesar  did 
suasion  to  adjourn  the  session  that  day  the  conspiracy  would 
Csesar.  ^^^^^  laughed  the  soothsayers  to  scorn,  and  reproved 

Csesar,  saying :  that  he  gave  the  senate  occasion  to  mislike  with 
him,  and  that  they  might  think  he  mock^*^  them,  considering 
that  by  his  commandment  they  were  assembled,  and  that  they 
were  ready  willingly  to  grant  him  all  things  and  to  proclaim 
him  king  of  all  his  provinces  of  the  empire  of  Rome  out  of 
Italy,  and  that  he  should  wear  his  diadem  in  all  other  places 
both  by  sea  and  land.  And  furthermore  that  if  any  man 
should  tell  them  from  him  they  should  depart  for  that  present 
time,  and  return  again  when  Calpurnia  should  have  better 
dreams,  what  would  his  enemies  and  ill-willers  say,  and  how 
could  they  like  of  his  friends'  words  ?  And  who  could  per- 
suade them  otherwise  but  that  they  would  think  his  domink)n 
a  slavery  unto  them  and  tyrannical  in  himself?  "  And  yet  if 
it  be  so,"  said  he,  "that  you  utterly  mislike  of  this  day,  it  is 
better  that  you  go  yourself  in  person,  and  saluting  the  senate, 
to  dismiss  them  till  another  time."  Therewithal  he  took 
Caesar  by  the  hand  and  brought  him  out  of  his  house.     Caesar 

was  not  gone  far  from  his  house,  but  a  bondman, 
brought  Cffisar  ^  Stranger,  did  what  he  could  to  speak  with  him : 
into  the  and  when  he  saw  he  was  put  back  by  the  great 

senate-house.  ^^^^^  ^^^  multitude  of  people  that  followed  him. 
The  tokens  of  he  went  straight  into  his  house  and  put  himself 
the  conspiracy  -^^^^  Calpurnia's  hands  to  be  kept  till  Caesar  came 
aga  s  »8  .  ^^^^  again,  telling  her  that  he  had  great  matters 
to  impart  unto  him.  And  one  Artemidorus  also  born  in  the 
isle  of  Cnidos,  a  doctor  of  rhetorick  in  the  Greek  tongue,  who 
by  means  of  his  profession  was  very  familiar  with  certain  of 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  99 

Brutus'  confederates  and  therefore  knew  the  most  part  of  all 
their  practices  against  Caesar,  came  and  brought  him  a  little 
billj  written  with  his  own  hand,  of  all  that  he  meant  to  tell 
him.  He  marking  how  Caesar  received  all  the  supplications 
that  were  offered  him,  and  that  he  gave  them  straight  to  his 
men  that  were  about  him,  pressed  nearer  to  him  and  said: 
"  Caesar,  read  this  memorial  to  yourself,  and  that  quickly,  for 
they  be  matters  of  great  weight  and  touch  you  nearly."  Caesar 
took  it  of  him  but  could  never  read  it,  though  he  many  times 
attempted  it,  for  the  number  of  people  that  did  salute  him : 
but  holding  it  still  in  his  hand,  keeping  it  to  himself,  went  on 
with  all  into  the  senate-house.  Howbeit  others  are  of  opinion 
that  it  was  some  man  else  that  gave  him  that  memorial,  and 
not  Artemidorus,  who  did  what  he  could  all  the  way  as  he  went 
to  give  it  Caesar,  but  he  was  always  repulsed  by  the  people. 
For  these  things  they  may  seem  to  come  by  chance,  but 
the  place  where  the  murder  was  prepared,  and  where  the 
senate  were  assembled,  and  where  also  there  stood  up  an 
image  of  Pompey,  dedicated  by  himself,  amongst  other  orna- 
ments which  he  gave  unto  the  theatre,  all  these  j,^^  ,^^^ 
were  manifest  proofs  that  it  was  the  ordinance  where  Caesar 
of  some  god  that  made  this  treason  to  be  exe-  ^^^  ^^*^^' 
cuted  specially  in  that  very  place.  It  is  also  reported  that 
Cassius  (though  otherwise  he  did  favor  the  doctrine  of  Epi- 
curus), beholding  the  image  of  Pompey,  before  they  entered 
into  the  action  of  their  traitorous  enterprise,  he  did  softly 
call  upon  it  to  aid  him :  but  the  instant  danger  of  the  present 
time,  taking  away  his  former  reason,  did  suddenly  put  him  into 
a  furious  passion,  and  made  him  like  a  man  half  j^tonius  Ox- 
besides  himself.  Now  Antonius  that  was  a  faith-  sar's  faithful 
ful  friend  to  Caesar,  and  a  valiant  man  besides  of  ^"®^^' 
his  hands,  him  Decius  Brutus  Albinus  entertained  out  of 
the  senate-house  having  begun  a  long  tale  of  set  purpose.     So 


100  THE  DEATH  OF  C^SAR. 

Caesar  coming  into  the  house,  all  the  senate  stood  up  on  their 
feet  to  do  him  honor.  Then  part  of  Brutus'  company  and 
confederates  stood  round  about  Caesar's  chair,  and  part  of 
them  also  came  towards  him  as  though  they  made  suit  with 
Metellus  Cimber  to  call  home  his  brother  again  from  banish- 
ment; and  thus  prosecuting  still  their  suit  they  followed 
Caesar  till  he  was  set  in  his  chair.  Who  denying  their  peti- 
tions, and  being  offended  with  them  one  after  another  because 
the  more  they  were  denied  the  more  they  pressed  upon  him 
and  were  the  earnester  with  him,  Metellus  at  length,  taking 
his  gown  with  both  his  hands,  pulled  it  over  his  neck,  which 
was  the  sign  given  the  confederates  to  set  upon  him.  Then 
Oasca  the  first  ^^^^^  behind  him  strake  him  in  the  neck  with  his 
that  struck  sword ;  howbeit  the  wound  was  not  great  nor  mor- 
at  Caesar.  ^^-^^  because  it  seemed  the  fear  of  such  a  devilish 
attempt  did  amaze  him,  and  take  his  strength  from  him  that 
he  killed  him  not  at  the  first  blow.  But  Caesar  turning 
straight  unto  him,  caught  hold  of  his  sword  and  held  it  hard, 
and  they  both  cried  out,  Caesar  in  Latin,  "0  vile  traitor, 
Casca,  what  doest  thou?"  and  Casca  in  Greek  to  his  brother, 
"Brother,  help  me."  At  the  beginning  of  this  stir, they  that 
were  present,  not  knowing  of  the  conspiracy,  were  so  amazed 
with  the  horrible  sight  they  saw,  they  had  no  power  to  fly 
neither  to  help  him  nor  so  much  as  once  to  make  any  outcry. 
They  on  the  other  side  that  had  conspired  his  death  compassed 
him  in  on  every  side  with  their  swords  drawn  in  their  hands 
that  Caesar  turned  him  nowhere  but  he  was  stricken  at  by 
some  and  still  had  naked  swords  in  his  face,  and  was  hacked 
and  mangled  among  them  as  a  wild  beast  taken  of  hunters. 
For  it  was  agreed  among  them  that  every  man  should  give 
him  a  wound  because  all  their  parts  should  be  in  this  murder. 
Men  report  also  that  Caesar  did  still  defend  himself  against 
the  rest,  running  every  way  with  his  body :  but  when  he  saw 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.-    \  i''.^  i   '',101 

,  »     >    >  3         )  '   * 

Brutus  witn  his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand  thfrn  hf?  ;pulfed»HS' 
gown  over  his  head  and  made  no  more  resistance,  and  was 
driven  either  casually  or  purposely  by  the  counsel  of  the 
conspirators,  against  the  base  whereupon  Pompey's  image 
stood,  which  ran  all  of  gore  blood  till  he  was  slain.  Thus  it 
seemed  that  the  image  took  just  revenge  of  Pompey's  enemy 
being  thrown  down  on  the  ground  at  his  feet  and  yielding  up 
his  ghost  there  for  the  number  of  wounds  he  had  upon  him. 
Por  it  is  reported  that  he  had  three  and  twenty 
wounds  upon  his  body;  and  divers  of  the  conspira-  and  had  three 
tors  did  hurt  themselves  striking  one  body  with  so  and  twenty 
many  blows.  When  Caesar  was  slain  the  senate  Y?^  ^  °^°^ 
(though  Brutus  stood  in  the  midst  amongst  them 
as  though  he  would  have  said  somewhat  touching  this  fact), 
presently  ran  out  of  the  house,  and,  flying,  filled  all  the  city 
with  marvellous  fear  and  tumult.  Insomuch  as  some  did 
shut  to  the  doors,  others  forsook  their  shops  and  ware-houses, 
and  others  ran  to  the  place  to  see  what  the  matter  was,  and 
others  also  that  had  seen  it  ran  home  to  their  houses  again. 
But  Antonius  and  Lepidus,  which  were  two  of  Caesar's  chiefest 
friends,  secretly  conveying  themselves  away,  fled  into  other 
men's  houses  and  forsook  their  own.  Brutus  and  his  confed- 
erates on  the  other  side,  being  yet  hot  with  this  murder  they 

had  committed,  having  their  swords  drawn  in  their 

■.-,  .  -,  n     1  The  murder- 

hands,  came  all  m  a  troop  together  out  of  the  sen-    ers  of  Casar 

ate  and  went  into  the  market-place,  not  as  men    ^o  go  to  t^e 

that  made  countenance  to  fly,  but  otherwise,  boldly    ™*'  ^  "^  *^^' 

holding  up  their  heads  like  men  of  courage,  and   called  to 

the  people  to  defend  their  liberty  and  stayed  to  speak  with 

every  great  personage  whom  they  met  in  their  way.     Of  them 

some  followed  this  troop  and  went  amongst  them  as  if  they 

had  been  of  the  conspiracy  and  falsely  challenged  part  of  the 

honor  with  them:   amongst  them  were  Caius  Octavius  and 


'lOl?  V  I  3/^  t^^^     THE  DEATH  OF  C^SAR. 

/jjeiiituto  Bpinther.  .  .  .  The  next  morning  Brutus  and  his  con- 
federates came  into  the  market-place  to  speak  unto  the  people, 
who  gave  them  such  audience  that  it  seemed  they  neither 
greatly  reproved  nor  allowed  the  fact:  for  by  their  great 
silence  they  showed  that  they  were  sorry  for  Caesar's  death 
and  also  that  they  did  reverence  Brutus.  Now  the  senate 
granted  general  pardon  for  all  that  was  past  and  to  pacify 
every  man  ordained  besides  that  Caesar's  funeral 

OsBBar  8  should  be  honored  as  a  god,  and  established  all 

funeral.  _  ^      ' 

things  that  he  had  done,  and  gave  certain  prov- 
inces also  and  convenient  honors  unto  Brutus  and  his  con- 
federates, whereby  every  man  thought  all  things  were  brought 
to  good  peace  and  quietness  again.  But  when  they  had 
opened  Caesar's  testament  and  found  a  liberal  legacy  of 
money  bequeathed  unto  every  citizen  of  Kome,  and  when 
they  saw  his  body  (which  was  brought  into  the  market-place) 
all  bemangled  with  gashes  of  swords,  then  there  was  no  order 
to  keep  the  multitude  and  common  people  quiet,  but  they 
plucked  up  forms,  tables,  and  stools  and  laid  them  all  about 
the  body  and  setting  them  afire,  burnt  the  corpse.  Then  when 
the  fire  was  well  kindled,  they  took  the  fire-brands  and  went 
unto  their  houses  that  had  slain  Caesar  to  set  them  afire. 
Others  also  ran  up  and  down  the  city  to  see  if  they  could  meet 
with  any  of  them  to  cut  them  in  pieces :  howbeit  they  could 
meet  with  never  a  man  of  them  because  they  had  locked  them- 
selves up  safely  in  their  houses.  .  .  .  This  stir  and  fury  made 
Brutus  and  Cassius  more  afraid  then  of  all  that  was  past,  and 
therefore  within  a  few  days  after,  they  departed  out  of  Kome, 
Q  .  ,  and  what  calamity  they  suffered  till  their  deaths, 
fifty  years  old  we  have  written  it  at  large  in  the  life  of  Brutus, 
at  his  death.  Qgesar  died  at  six  and  fifty  years  of  age,  and  Pom- 
pey  also  lived  not  passing  four  years  more  than  he.  So  he 
reaped  no  other  fruit  of  all  his  reign  and  dominion  which  he 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS. 


108 


The  revenge 
of  Caesar's 
death. 

Cassias, 
being  over- 
thrown at 
the  battle  of 
Philippi,  slew 
himself  with 
the  self-same 
sword  where- 
with he 
strake  Caesar. 


had  so  vehemently  desired  all  his  life  and  pursued  with  such 
extreme  danger,  but  a  vain  name  only  and  a  superficial  glory 
that  procured  him  the  envy  and  hatred  of  his  coun- 
try. But  his  great  prosperity  and  good  fortune 
that  favored  him  all  his  life  time  did  continue 
afterwards  in  the  revenge  of  his  death  pursuing  the 
murderers  both  by  sea  and  land,  till  they  had  not 
left  a  man  more  to  be  executed  of  all  them  that 
were  actors  or  counsellors  in  the  conspiracy  of  his 
death.  Furthermore,  of  all  the  chances  that  happen 
unto  men  upon  the  earth  that  which  came  to  Cassius 
aibove  all  other  is  most  to  be  wondered  at:  for  he 
being  overcome  in  battle  at  the  journey  of  Philippi, 
slew  himself  with  the  same  sword  with  which  he  strake 
Caesar.    Again,  of  signs  in  the  element,  the  great  comet,  which, 

seven  nights  together  was  seen  very  bright  after 

Wonders  seen 
Caesar's  death,  the   eighth  night  after  was  never    in  the  ele- 

seen  more.     Also  the  brightness   of  the  sun  was    "^^nt  after 

darkened,  the  which  all  that  year  through  rose  very    ^g*!^^'*^ 

pale  and  shined  not  out,  whereby  it  gave  but  small   great  comet. 

heat ;  therefore  the  air  being  very  cloudy  and  dark,    ^^^^^^ 

by  the  weakness  of  the  heat  that  could  not  come    gpint  ap- 

forth,  did  cause  the  earth  to  bring  forth  but  raw    peared  onto 

and  unripe  fruit,  which  rotted  before  it  could  ripe.      ^°*°^' 

But  above  all  the  ghost  that  appeared  unto  Brutus  showed 

plainly  that  the  gods  weye  offended  with  the  murder  of  Caesar. 

The  vision  was  thus:   Brutus  being  newly  to  pass  over  his 

army  from  the  city  of  Abydos  to  the  other  coast  lying  directly 

against  it,  slept  every  night  (as  his  manner  was)  in  his  tent; 

and  being  yet  awake  thinking  of  his  affairs  (for  by  report  he 

was  as  careful  a  captain  and  lived  with  as  little  sleep  as  ever 

man  did)  he  thought  he  heard  a  noise  at  his  tent  door,  and, 

looking  towards  the  light  of  the  lamp  that  waxed  very  dim, 


104  silt  pathick  spens. 

he  saw  a  horrible  vision  of  a  man  of  a  wonderful  greatness  and 

dreadful    look,   which   at   the   first   made   him    marvellously 

afraid.     But  when  he  saw  that  it  did  him  no  hurt,  but  stood 

by  his  bedside  and  said  nothing,  at  length  he  asked  him  what 

he  was.     The  image  answered  him:    "I   am  thy    ill   angel, 

Brutus,  and  thou  shalt  see  me  by  the  city  of  Philippi."   Then 

Brutus  replied  and   said:    "Well,    I   shall   see   thee   then." 

Therewithal  the  spirit  presently  vanished  from  him.     After 

that  time  Brutus  being  in  battle  near  unto  the  city  of  Philippi, 

against  Antonius  and  Octavius  Csesar,  at  the  first  battle  he  won 

the  victory,  and,  overthrowing  all  them  that  withstood  him,  he 

drave  them  unto  young  Caesar's  camp,  which  he  took.     The 

The  second       second  battle  being  at  hand,  this  spirit  appeared 

appearing  o      ^^^LUi  unto  him,  but  spake  never  a  word.     There- 

tne  spirit  unto  ^ 

Brutus.  upon  Brutus,  knowing  that  he  should  die,  did  put 

himself  to  all  hazard  in  battle,  but  yet  fighting   could   not 

be  slain.     So  seeing  his  men  put  to  flight  and  overthrown  he 

ran  unto  a  little  rock  not  far  off,  and  there  setting  his  sword's 

point  to  his  breast,  fell  upon  it  and  slew  himself;  but  yet,  as 

it  is  reported,  with  the  help  of  his  friend  that  dispatched  him. 


SIR  PATRICK  SPENS. 

The  king  sits  in  Dunfermline  town, 
Drinking  the  blood-red  wine : 

"  O  where  will  I  get  a  skeely  *  skipper, 
To  sail  this  new  ship  of  mine?" 

O  up  and  spake  an  eldern  *  knight. 
Sat  at  the  king's  right  knee : 

1  skeely,  skilful.  2  eldern,  old. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  105 

"  Sir  Patrick  Spens  is  the  best  sailor 
That  ever  sailed  the  sea." 

Our  king  has  written  a  broad  letter,^ 

And  sealed  it  with  his  hand, 
And  sent  it  to  Sir  Patrick  Spens, 

Was  walking  on  the  strand. 

"To  Noroway,^  to  Noroway, 

To  Noroway  o'er  the  foam; 
The  king's  daughter  of  Noroway, 

'Tis  thou  must  bring  her  home!  " 

The  first  word  that  Sir  Patrick  read, 

So  loud,  loud  laughed  he; 
The  next  word  that  Sir  Patrick  read, 

The  tear  blinded  his  e'e.* 

"  0  who  is  this  has  done  this  deed, 

And  told  the  king  o'  me, 
To  send  us  out  at  this  time  of  the  year 

To  sail  upon  the  sea? 

"Be  it  wind,  be  it  weet,  be  it  hail,  be  it  sleet, 

Our  ship  must  sail  the  foam ; 
The  king's  daughter  of  Noroway, 

'Tis  we  must  fetch  her  home." 

They  hoysed  ®  their  sails  on  Monenday  ^  morn 

With  all  the  speed  they  may; 
They  have  landed  in  Noroway 

Upon  a  Wodensday.* 

•  broad  letter,  letter  of  commission.  6  hoysed,  hoisted. 

*  Noroway,  Norway.  ^  Monenday,  Monday. 

^  e'e,  eye.  8  Wodensday ,  Wednesday. 


106  SIB  PATRICK  SPENS. 

They  had  not  been  a  week,  a  week 

In  Noroway,  but  twae,^ 
When  that  the  lords  of  Noroway 

Began  aloud  to  say  : 

"Ye  Scottishmen  spend  all  our  king's  goud,^** 

And  all  our  queenis  "  fee."  ^^ 
"Ye  lie,  ye  lie,  ye  liars  loud, 

Full  loud  I  hear  ye  lie ! 

"  For  I  brought  as  much  white  monie  ^® 

As  gane  ^*  my  men  and  me, 
And  I  brought  a  half-fou  ^^  o'  good  red  goud 

Out  o'er  the  sea  with  me. 

"  Make  ready,  make  ready,  my  merry  men  all ! 

Our  good  ship  sails  the  morn." 
"  Now,  ever  alack !  my  master  dear, 

I  fear  a  deadly  storm ! 

"I  saw  the  new  moon,  late  yestreen,^' 

With  the  old  moon  in  her  arm; 
And  if  we  go  to  sea,  master, 

I  fear  we'll  come  to  harm." 

They  had  not  sailed  a  league,  a  league, 

A  league,  but  barely  three. 
When  the  lift "  grew  dark,  and  the  wind  blew  loud. 

And  gurly  ^®  grew  the  sea. 

^twae,  two.  M  gane,  suffice. 

1"  goud,  gold.  16  half-fou,  half-bushel. 

11  queenis,  queen's.  i«  yestreen,  yesterday. 

12 /ee,  property.  17  lift,  air. 

18  white  monie,  silver  money.  is  gurly,  stormy. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  107 

The  anchors  broke,  and  the  topmasts  lap,^* 

It  was  such  a  deadly  storm, 
And  the  waves  came  o'er  the  broken  ship, 

Till  all  her  sides  were  torn. 

"  0  where  will  I  get  a  good  sailor, 

To  take  my  helm  in  hand, 
Till  I  get  up  to  the  tall  topmast. 

To  see  if  I  can  spy  land?  " 

"0  here  am  I,  a  sailor  good. 

To  take  the  helm  in  hand. 
Till  you  go  up  to  the  tall  topmast. 

But  I  fear  you'll  ne'er  spy  land." 

He  had  not  gone  a  step,  a  step, 

A  step,  but  barely  ane,^ 
When  a  bolt  flew  out  of  our  goodly  ship, 

And  the  salt  sea  it  came  in. 

"  Go  fetch  a  web  o'  the  silken  cloth. 

Another  o'  the  twine, 
And  wap  them  into  our  ship's  side, 

And  let  not  the  sea  come  in.'' 

They  fetched  a  web  o'  the  silken  cloth 

Another  o'  the  twine 
And  they  wapped  them  round  that  good  ship's  side, 

But  still  the  sea  came  in. 

0  loth,  loth  were  our  good  Scots  lords 

To  wet  their  cork-heeled  shoon ;  ^^ 
But  long  ere  all  the  play  was  played. 

They  wet  their  hats  aboon.^ 

1^  lap,  sprang.  21  shoon,  shoes. 

*>  ane,  one.  22  aboon,  above. 


108  SIR  PATRICK  SPENS, 

And  many  was  the  feather-bed 

That  flattened  on  the  foam ; 
And  many  was  the  good  lord's  son 

That  never  more  came  home. 

The  ladies  wrang  their  fingers  white, 

The  maidens  tore  their  hair, 
All  for  the  sake  of  their  true  loves, 

For  them  they'll  see  nae  mair.'^ 

0  long,  long  may  the  ladies  sit. 

With  their  fans  into  their  hand, 
Before  they  see  Sir  Patrick  Spens 

Come  sailing  to  the  strand. 

And  long,  long  may  the  maidens  sit. 
With  their  goud  kaims  ^*  in  their  hair, 

All  waiting  for  their  own  dear  loves, 
For  them  they'll  see  nae  mair. 

0  forty  miles  off  Aberdeen 

'Tis  fifty  fathoms  deep. 
And  there  lies  good  Sir  Patrick  Spens, 

With  the  Scots  lords  at  his  feet. 

28  nae  mair,  no  more.  ^  kaims,  combs. 

"  Whether  there  is  an  historical  basis  for  the  shipwreck  of  Scottish  nobles 
which  this  ballad  sings,  and  if  so,  where  it  is  to  be  found,  are  questions  that 
have  been  considerably  discussed.  .  .  .  Motherwell  has  suggested  a  suf- 
ficiently plausible  foundation. 

"  Margaret,  daughter  of  Alexander  III,,  was  married  in  1281  to  Eric,  King 
of  Norway.  She  was  conducted  to  her  husband,  '  brought  home,'  in  August 
of  that  year  by  many  knights  and  nobles.  Many  of  them  were  drowned  on  the 
return  voyage  as  Sir  Patrick  Spens  is  in"  the  ballad.  — "The  English  and 
Scottish  Popular  Ballads,"  edited  by  Francis  James  Child. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  109 


CHEVY   CHASE. 

God  prosper  long  our  noble  king, 

Our  lives  and  safeties  all ; 
A  woeful  hunting  once  there  did 

In  Chevy  Chase  befall. 

To  drive  the  deer  with  hound  and  horn 

Earl  Percy  took  the  way ; 
The  child  may  rue  that  is  unborn 

The  hunting  of  that  day. 

The  stout  earl  of  Northumberland 

A  vow  to  God  did  make, 
His  pleasure  in  the  Scottish  woods 

Three  summer  days  to  take  — 

The  chiefest  harts  in  Chevy  Chase 

To  kill  and  bear  away. 
These  tidings  to  Earl  Douglas  came 

In  Scotland  where  he  lay ; 

Who  sent  Earl  Percy  present  word 
He  would  prevent  his  sport. 

The  English  earl  not  fearing  that, 
Did  to  the  woods  resort. 

With  fifteen  hundred  bowmen  bold. 

All  chosen  men  of  might, 
Who  knew  full  well  in  time  of  need 

To  aim  their  shafts  aright. 


110  CUEVY  CHASE. 

The  gallant  grayhoimd  swiftly  ran 

To  chase  the  fallow  deer ; 
On  Monday  they  began  to  hunt 

Ere  daylight  did  appear ; 

And  long  before  high  noon  they  had 

A  hundred  fat  bucks  slain ; 
Then  having  dined,  the  drovers  went 

To  rouse  the  deer  again. 

The  bowmen  mustered  on  the  hills, 

Well  able  to  endure ; 
Their  backsides  all  with  special  care 

That  day  were  guarded  sure. 

The  hounds  ran  swiftly  through  the  woods, 

The  nimble  deer  to  take, 
That  with  their  cries  the  hills  and  dales 

An  echo  shrill  did  make. 

Lord  Percy  to  the  quarry  went 

To  view  the  tender  deerj 
Quoth  he,  "  Earl  Douglas  promised  once 

This  day  to  meet  me  here. 

"  But  if  I  thought  he  would  not  come. 

No  longer  would  I  stay ;  " 
With  that  a  brave  young  gentleman 

Thus  to  the  earl  did  say : 

"  Lo,  yonder  doth  Earl  Douglas  come, 

His  men  in  armor  bright; 
Full  twenty  hundred  Scottish  spears 

All  marching  in  our  sight; 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  111 

^^  All  men  of  pleasant  Teviotdale, 

Fast  by  the  Eiver  Tweed/' 
"  0  cease  your  sports,"  Earl  Percy  said, 

"  And  take  your  bows  with  speed ; 

"  And  now  with  me,  my  countrymen, 

Your  courage  forth  advance, 
For  there  was  never  champion  yet. 

In  Scotland  or  in  France, 

"  That  ever  did  on  horseback  come, 

And  if  my  hap  it  were, 
I  durst  encounter  man  for  man 

With  him  to  break  a  spear." 

Earl  Douglas  on  his  milk-white  steed. 

Most  like  a  baron  bold, 
Kode  foremost  of  his  company. 

Whose  armor  shone  like  gold. 

"Show  me,"  said  he,  "whose  men  you  be, 

That  hunt  so  boldly  here. 
That,  without  my  consent,  do  chase 

And  kill  my  fallow  deer." 

The  first  man  that  did  answer  make. 

Was  noble  Percy  he. 
Who  said,  "  We  list  not  to  declare 

Nor  show  whose  men  we  be : 

"  Yet  will  we  spend  our  dearest  blood 

Thy  chief  est  harts  to  slay." 
Then  Douglas  swore  a  solemn  oath, 

And  thus  in  rage  did  say : 


112  CHEVY  CHASE. 

"Ere  thus  I  will  out-braved  be, 

One  of  us  two  shall  die ; 
I  know  thee  well,  an  earl  thou  art  — 

Lord  Percy,  so  am  I. 

"  But  trust  me,  Percy,  pity  it  were, 

And  great  offence,  to  kill 
Any  of  these  our  guiltless  men, 
.   For  they  have  done  none  ill. 

"  Let  thou  and  I  the  battle  try, 

And  set  our  men  aside." 
"  Accurst  be  he, "  Earl  Percy  said, 

"By  whom  it  is  denied." 

Then  stept  a  gallant  squire  forth — 
Witherington  was  his  name  — 

Who  said,  "  I  would  not  have  it  told 
To  Henry,  our  king,  for  shame, 

"  That  e'er  my  captain  fought  on  foot, 

And  I  stood  looking  on. 
You  be  two  earls,"  quoth  Witherington, 

"  And  I  a  squire  alone ; 

"  I'll  do  the  best  that  do  I  may. 
While  I  have  power  to  stand ; 

While  I  have  power  to  wield  my  sword, 
I'll  fight  with  heart  and  hand." 

Our  English  archers  bent  their  bows  — 
Their  hearts  were  good  and  truej 

At  the  first  flight  of  arrows  sent. 
Full  fourscore  Scots  they  slew. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  113 

To  drive  the  deer  with  hound  and  horn, 

Douglas  bade  on  the  bent,^ 
Two  captains  moved  with  mickle  might, 

Their  spears  to  shivers  went. 

They  closed  full  fast  on  every  side, 

No  slackness  there  was  found. 
But  many  a  gallant  gentleman 

Lay  gasping  on  the  ground. 

0  Christ !  it  was  great  grief  to  see 

How  each  man  chose  his  spear, 
And  how  the  blood  out  of  their  breasts 

Did  gush  like  water  clear. 

At  last  these  two  stout  earls  did  meet 

Like  captains  of  great  might ; 
Like  lions  wode,^  they  laid  on  lode;  * 

They  made  a  cruel  fight. 

They  fought  until  they  both  did  sweat. 

With  swords  of  tempered  steel, 
Till  blood  down  their  cheeks  like  rain 

They  trickling  down  did  feel. 

"  0  yield  thee,  Percy !  "  Douglas  said, 

"And  in  faith  I  will  thee  bring 
Where  thou  shalt  high  advanced  be 

By  James,  our  Scottish  king. 

"Thy  ransom  I  will  freely  give. 

And  this  report  of  thee, 
Thou  art  the  most  courageous  knight 

That  ever  I  did  see." 

bent,  disposition,  inclination.  2  wode,  violent,  furious. 

8  to  lay  on  load,  or  lode,  to  attack  fiercely. 


114  cMj^vt  chase. 

"No,  Douglas,"  quoth  Earl  Percy  then, 

"  Thy  proffer  I  do  scorn ; 
I  will  not  yield  to  any  Scot 

That  ever  yet  was  born/' 

With  that  there  came  an  arrow  keen, 

Out  of  an  English  bow. 
Which  struck  Earl  Douglas  on  the  breast 

A  deep  and  deadly  blow. 

Who  never  said  more  words  than  these : 
"  Fight  on,  my  merry  men  all ! 

For  why,  my  life  is  at  an  end, 
Lord  Percy  sees  my  fall." 

Then  leaving  life.  Earl  Percy  took 
The  dead  man  by  the  hand; 

Who  said,  "  Earl  Douglas,  for  thy  life 
Would  I  had  lost  my  land ! 

"  0  Christ !  my  very  heart  doth  bleed 

For  sorrow  for  thy  sake. 
For  sure  a  more  redoubted  knight 

Mischance  could  never  take." 

A  knight  amongst  the  Scots  there  was 
Which  saw  Earl  Douglas  die, 

Who  straight  in  heart  did  vow  revenge 
Upon  the  Lord  Percy. 

Sir  Hugh  Montgomery  was  he  called, 
Who,  with  a  spear  full  bright. 

Well  mounted  on  a  gallant  steed. 
Ran  fiercely  through  the  fight, 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  115 

And  past  the  English  archers  all, 

Without  all  dread  or  fear, 
And  through  Earl  Percy's  body  then 

He  thrust  his  hateful  spear. 

With  such  a  vehement  force  and  might 

His  body  he  did  gore, 
The  staff  ran  through  the  other  side 

A  large  cloth-yard,  and  more. 

Thus  did  both  those  nobles  die. 

Whose  courage  none  could  stain; 
An  English  archer  then  perceived 

The  noble  earl  was  slain. 

He  had  a  good  bow  in  his  hand 

Made  of  a  trusty  tree ; 
An  arrow  of  a  cloth-yard  long 

To  the  hard  head  haled  he. 

Against  Sir  Hugh  Montgomery 

His  shaft  full  right  he  set; 
The  gray-goose-wing  that  was  thereon 

In  his  heart's  blood  was  wet. 

This  fight  from  break  of  day  did  last 

Till  setting  of  the  sun, 
For  when  they  rang  the  evening-bell 

The  battle  scarce  was  done. 

With  stout  Earl  Percy  there  was  slain 

Sir  John  of  Egerton, 
Sir  Robert  Harcliff  and  Sir  William, 

Sir  James,  that  bold  baron. 


116  CHEVY  CHASE. 

And  with  Sir  George  and  Sir  James, 
Both  knights  of  good  account, 

Good  Sir  Ralph  Raby  there  was  slain. 
Whose  prowess  did  surmount. 

For  Witherington  needs  must  I  wail 

As  one  in  doleful  dumps. 
For  when  his  legs  were  smitten  off. 

He  fought  upon  his  stumps. 

And  with  Earl  Douglas  there  was  slain 

Sir  Hugh  Montgomery, 
And  Sir  Charles  Morrell,  that  from  field 

One  foot  would  never  flee ; 

Sir  Roger  Heuer  of  Harcliff,  too. 

His  sister's  son  was  he; 
Sir  David  Lambwell,  well  esteemed, 

But  saved  he  could  not  be. 

And  the  Lord  Maxwell,  in  like  case. 

With  Douglas  he  did  die ; 
Of  twenty  hundred  Scottish  spears, 

Scarce  fifty-five  did  fly. 

Of  fifteen  hundred  Englishmen 

Went  home  but  fifty -three ; 
The  rest  in  Chevy  Chase  were  slain. 

Under  the  greenwood  tree. 

Next  day  did  many  widows  come 

Their  husbands  to  bewail ; 
They  washed  their  wounds  in  brinish  tears, 

But  all  would  not  prevail. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  117 

Their  bodies,  bathed  in  purple  blood, 

They  bore  with  them  away ; 
They  kissed  them  dead  a  thousand  times 

Ere  they  were  clad  in  clay. 

The  news  was  brought  to  Edinburgh, 

Where  Scotland's  king  did  reign, 
That  brave  Earl  Douglas  suddenly 

Was  with  an  arrow  slain. 

"  0  heavy  news !  "  King  James  can  say, 

"  Scotland  may  witness  be 
I  have  not  any  captain  more 

Of  such  account  as  he." 

Like  tidings  to  King  Henry  came 

Within  as  short  a  space, 
That  Percy  of  Northumberland 

Was  slain  at  Chevy  Chase. 

"  Now  God  be  with  him !  "  said  our  king, 

"  Since  it  will  no  better  be ; 
I  trust  I  have  within  my  realm 

Five  hundred  as  good  as  he. 

"  Yet  shall  not  Scots  nor  Scotland  say 

But  I  will  vengeance  take, 
And  be  revenged  on  them  all 

For  brave  Earl  Percy's  sake." 

This  vow  the  king  did  well  perform 

After  on  Humble-down; 
In  one  day  fifty  knights  were  slain 

With  lords  of  great  renown. 


118  BEWICK  AND  GRAHAME.   ' 

And  of  the  rest,  of  small  account, 

Did  many  hundreds  die : 
Thus  endeth  the  hunting  in  Chevy  Chase 

Made  by  the  Earl  Percy. 

God  save  our  king,  and  bless  this  land 

With  plenty,  joy,  and  peace. 
And  grant  henceforth  that  foul  debate 

'Twixt  noble  men  may  cease! 

"  The  ballad  can  scarcely  be  a  deliberate  fiction.  The  singer  is  not  a  critical 
historian,  but  he  supposes  himself  to  be  dealing  with  facts;  he  may  be  partial 
to  his  countrymen,  but  he  has  no  doubt  that  he  is  treating  of  a  real  event ;  and 
the  singer  in  this  particular  case  thought  he  was  describing  the  battle  of  Otter- 
burn,  the  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot  being  indifferently  so  called."  —  "  The  Eng- 
lish and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads,"  edited  by  Francis  James  Child,  VI.,  p.  304. 

**  I  never  heard  the  olde  song  of  Percy  and  Duglas  that  I  found  not  my 
heart  mooved  more  then  with  a  trumpet ;  and  yet  it  is  sung  but  by  some  blinde 
crouder,  with  no  rougher  voyce  then  rude  stile:  which,  being  so  evill  appar- 
relled  in  the  dust  and  cobwebbes  of  that  uncivill  age,  what  would  it  workc 
trymmed  in  the  gorgeous  eloquence  of  Pindar !  "  —  "  An  Apologie  for  Poetrie,*' 
by  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 


BEWICK  AND  GRAHAME. 

Old  Grahame  he  is  to  Carlisle  gone, 
When  Sir  Robert  Bewick  there  met  he; 

In  arms  to  the  wine  they  are  gone. 
And  drank  till  they  were  both  merry. 

Old  Grahame  he  took  up  the  cup. 

And  said,  "Brother  Bewick,  here's  to  thee; 
And  here's  to  our  two  sons  at  home, 
.  For  they  live  best  in  our  country." 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  119 

"  Nay,  were  thy  son  as  good  as  mine, 

And  of  some  books  he  could  but  read, 
With  sword  and  buckler  by  his  side, 

To  see  how  he  could  save  his  head, 

"  They  might  have  been  called  two  bold  brethren 

Where  ever  they  did  go  or  ride; 
They  might  have  been  called  two  bold  brethren, 

They  might  have  cracked  the  Border-side. 

"  Thy  son  is  bad,  and  is  but  a  lad. 

And  bully  ^  to  my  son  cannot  be ; 
For  my  son  Bewick  can  both  write  and  read. 

And  sure  I  am  that  cannot  he." 

"  I  put  him  to  school,  but  he  would  not  learn, 
I  bought  him  books,  but  he  would  not  read; 

But  my  blessing  he  shall  never  have 

Till  I  see  how  his  hand  can  save  his  head." 

Old  Grahame  called  for  an  account 

And  he  asked  what  was  for  to  pay; 
There  he  paid  a  crown,  so  it  went  round. 

Which  was  all  for  good  wine  and  hay. 

Old  Grahame  is  into  the  stable  gone. 

Where  stood  thirty  good  steeds  and  three ; 

He's  taken  his  own  steed  by  the  head. 
And  home  rode  he  right  wantonly. 

When  he  came  home,  there  did  he  espy, 

A  loving  sight  to  spy  or  see. 
There  did  he  espy  his  own  three  sons. 

Young  Christy  Grahame,  the  foremost  was  he. 

1  bully  t  companion. 


120  BEWICK  AND  GEAHAME. 

There  did  he  espy  his  own  three  sons, 

Young  Christy  Grahame,  the  foremost  was  he : 

"  Where  have  you  been  all  day,  father. 
That  no  counsel  you  would  take  by  me?" 

"  Nay,  I  have  been  in  Carlisle  town, 
Where  Sir  Eobert  Bewick  there  met  me ; 

He  said  thou  was  bad,  and  called  thee  a  lad, 
And  a  baffled  ^  man  by  thee  I  be. 

"  He  said  thou  wast  bad,  and  called  thee  a  lad, 

And  bully  to  Jiis  son  cannot  be; 
For  his  son  Bewick  can  both  write  and  read, 

And  sure  I  am  that  cannot  thee. 

**  I  put  thee  to  school,  but  thou  wouldst  not  learn, 
I  bought  thee  books,  but  thou  wouldst  not  read; 

But  my  blessing  thou  shalt  never  have 

Till  I  see  with  Bewick  thou  can  save  thy  head." 

"Oh,  pray  forbear,  my  father  dear; 

That  ever  such  a  thing  should  be ! 
Shall  I  venture  my  body  in  field  to  fight 

With  a  man  that's  faith  and  troth ^  to  me?" 

"What's  that  thou  sayest,  thou  limmer*  loon? 

Or  how  dare  thou  stand  to  speak  to  me? 
If  thou  do  not  end  this  quarrel  soon. 

Here  is  my  glove,  thou  shalt  fight  me." 

Christy  stooped  low  unto  the  ground. 
Unto  the  ground,  as  you'll  understand : 

"  0  father,  put  on  your  glove  again. 

The  wind  hath  blown  it  from  your  hand." 

2  baffled,  insulted,  held  as  an  object  of  contempt. 
*  troth,  truth.  *  limmer,  low,  worthless. 


THE  HE  ART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  121 

"  What's  that  thou  sayst,  thou  limmer  loon? 

Or  how  dare  thou  stand  to  speak  to  me? 
If  thou  do  not  end  this  quarrel  soon, 

Here  is  my  hand,  thou  shalt  fight  me." 

Christy  Grahame  is  to  his  chamber  gone, 

And  for  to  study,  as  well  might  be, 
Whether  to  fight  with  his  father  dear. 

Or  with  his  bully  Bewick  he. 

"  If  it  be  my  fortune  my  bully  to  kill, 

As  you  shall  boldly  understand, 
In  every  town  that  I  ride  through. 

They'll  say,  'There  rides  a  brotherless  man!' 

"Nay,  for  to  kill  my  bully  dear, 

I  think  it  will  be  a  deadly  sin; 
And  for  to  kill  my  father  dear, 

The  blessing  of  heaven  I  ne'er  shall  win. 

"0  give  me  your  blessing,  father,"  he  said, 

"  And  pray  well  for  me  for  to  thrive ; 
If  it  be  my  fortune  my  bully  to  kill, 

I  swear  I'll  ne'er  come  home  alive." 

He  put  on  his  back  a  good  plate-jack,® 

And  on  his  head  a  cap  of  steel, 
With  sword  and  buckler  by  his  side; 

0  gin  ®  he  did  not  become  them  well ! 

"  0  fare  thee  well,  my  father  dear ! 

And  fare  thee  well,  thou  Carlisle  town! 
If  it  be  my  fortune  my  bully  to  kill, 

1  swear  I'll  ne'er  eat  bread  again." 

'^plate-jack,  coat  of  mail.  «  gin,  if. 


122  BEWICK  AND  GRAHAME. 

Now  we'll  leave  talking  of  Christy  Grahame, 
And  talk  of  him  again  belive ; ' 

But  we  will  talk  of  bonny  Bewick, 
Where  he  was  teaching  his  scholars  five. 

Now  when  he  had  learned  them  well  to  fence, 
To  handle  their  swords  without  any  doubt, 

He's  taken  his  own  sword  under  his  arm, 
And  walked  his  father's  close  ^  about. 

He  looked  between  him  and  the  sun, 
To  see  what  farleys^  he  could  see; 

There  he  spied  a  man  with  armor  on, 
As  he  came  riding  over  the  lea. 

"  I  wonder  much  what  man  yon  be 
That  so  boldly  this  way  does  come; 

I  think  it  is  my  nighest  friend, 
I  think  it  is  my  bully  Grahame. 

"  0  welcome,  O  welcome,  bully  Grahame ! 

O  man,  thou  art  my  dear,  welcome ! 
O  man,  thou  art  my  dear,  welcome! 

For  I  love  thee  best  in  Christendom." 

"  Away,  away,  0  bully  Bewick, 
And  of  thy  buUyship  let  me  be ! 

The  day  is  come  I  never  thought  on; 

Bully,  I'm  come  here  to  fight  with  thee." 

"  Oh  no !  not  so,  0  bully  Grahame ! 

That  e'er  such  a  word  should  spoken  be! 

'  belive,  fortliwith,  speedily. 

*  close,  a  place  surrounded  with  a  fence,  wall,  or  bridge, 

^/arleys,  strange,  unexpected  thing. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  123 

I  was  thy  master,  thou  was  my  scholar : 
So  well  as  I  have  learned  thee." 

"  My  father  he  was  in  Carlisle  town, 
When  thy  father,  Bewick,  there  met  he; 

He  said  I  was  bad,  and  he  called  me  a  lad, 
And  a  baffled  man  by  thee  I  be." 

"  Away,  away,  O  bully  Grahame, 

And  of  all  that  talk,  man,  let  us  be ! 
We'll  take  three  men  of  either  side 

To  see  if  we  can  our  fathers  agree." 

^'  Away,  away,  0  bully  Bewick, 

And  of  thy  bullyship  let  me  be ! 
But  if  thou  be  a  man  as  I  trow  ^^  thou  art, 

Come  over  this  ditch  and  fight  with  me." 

"  Oh  no !  not  so,  my  bully  Grahame ! 

That  e'er  such  a  word  should  spoken  be! 
Shall  I  venture  my  body  in  field  to  fight 

With  a  man  that's  faith  and  troth  to  me?" 

"  Away,  away,  0  bully  Bewick, 

And  of  all  that  care,  man,  let  us  be ! 
If  thou  be  a  man  as  I  trow  thou  art, 

Come  over  this  ditch  and  fight  with  me." 

"  Now  if  it  be  my  fortune  thee,  Grahame,  to  kill, 

As  God's  will's,  man,  it  all  must  be ; 
But  if  it  be  my  fortune  thee,  Grahame,  to  kill, 

'Tis  home  again  I'll  never  gae." 

"  Thou  art  of  my  mind  then,  bully  Bewick, 
And  sworn -brethren  will  we  be ; 

1"  trow^  believe,  trust. 


124  BEWICK  AND  GRAHAME. 

If  thou  be  a  man,  as  I  trow  thou  art, 

Come  over  this  ditch  and  fight  with  me." 

He  flung  his  cloak  from  off  his  shoulders. 
His  psalm-book  out  of  his  hand  flung  he, 

He  clapped  his  hand  upon  the  hedge, 
And  o'er  leaped  he  right  wantonly. 

When  Grahame  did  see  his  bully  come, 
The  salt  tear  stood  long  in  his  eye : 

"Now  needs  must  I  say  that  thou  art  a  man 
That  dare  venture  thy  body  to  fight  with  me, 

"Now  I  have  a  harness  on  my  back; 

I  know  that  thou  hath  none  on  thine; 
But  as  little  as  thou  hath  on  thy  back. 

Sure  as  little  shall  there  be  on  mine." 

He  flung  his  jack  from  off  his  back, 
His  steel  cap  from  his  head  flung  he; 

He's  taken  his  sword  into  his  hand. 
He's  tied  his  horse  unto  a  tree. 

Now  they  fell  to  it  with  two  broadswords. 
For  two  long  hours  fought  Bewick  and  he ; 

Much  sweat  was  to  be  seen  on  them  both, 
But  never  a  drop  of  blood  to  see. 

Now  Grahame  gave  Bewick  an  awkward  stroke, 
An  awkward  stroke  surely  struck  he ; 

He  struck  him  now  under  the  left  breast, 
Then  down  to  the  ground  as  dead  fell  he. 

"Arise,  arise,  0  bully  Bewick, 
Arise,  and  speak  three  words  to  me  I 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  125 

Whether  this  be  thy  deadly  wound, 

Or  God  and  good  surgeons  will  mend  thee." 

"  0  horse,  0  horse,  0  bully  Grahame, 

And  pray  do  get  thee  far  from  me ! 
Thy  sword  is  sharp,  it  hath  wounded  my  heart, 

And  so  no  further  can  I  gae. 

"  0  horse,  0  horse,  0  bully  Grahame, 
And  get  thee  far  from  me  with  speed! 

And  get  thee  out  of  this  country  quite ! 

That  none  may  know  who's  done  the  deed." 

"  0  if  this  be  true,  my  bully  dear. 

The  words  that  thou  dost  tell  to  me, 
The  vow  I  made,  and  the  vow  I'll  keep; 

I  swear  I'll  be  the  first  that  die." 

Then  he  stuck  his  sword  in  a  moody-hill,  ^^ 
Where  he  leaped  thirty  good  foot  and  three ; 

First  he  bequeathed  his  soul  to  God, 

And  upon  his  own  sword-point  leaped  he. 

Now  Grahame  he  was  the  first  that  died, 

And  then  came  Eobin  Bewick  to  see ; 
"  Arise,  arise,  0  son !  "  he  said, 

"  For  I  see  thou  hast  won  the  victory. 

"  Arise,  arise,  0  son !  "  he  said, 

"  For  I  see  thou  hast  won  the  victory : " 

"  Father,  could  ye  not  drunk  your  wine  at  home, 
And  letten  me  and  my  brother  be? 

"  Nay,  dig  a  grave  both  low  and  wide. 
And  in  it  us  two  pray  bury ; 

11  moody-hill,  mould-hill  —  hill  of  earth. 


126  BEWICK  AND   GRAHAME. 

But  bury  my  bully  Grahame  on  the  sun-side, 
For  I'm  sure  he's  won  the  victory." 

Now  we'll  leave  talking  of  these  two  brethren, 
In  Carlisle  town  where  they  lie  slain, 

And  talk  of  these  two  good  old  men, 
When  they  were  making  a  pitiful  moan. 

With  that  bespoke  now  Eobin  Bewick : 
"O  man,  was  I  not  much  to  blame? 

I  have  lost  one  of  the  liveliest  lads 
That  ever  was  bred  unto  my  name." 

With  that  bespoke  my  good  lord  Grahame : 
"  0  man,  I  have  lost  the  better  block ; 

I  have  lost  my  comfort  and  my  joy, 

I  have  lost  my  key,  I  have  lost  my  lock. 

"  Had  I  gone  through  all  Ladderdale, 

And  forty  horse  had  set  on  me. 
Had  Christy  Grahame  been  at  my  back, 

So  well  as  he  would  have  guarded  me." 

I  have  no  more  of  my  song  to  sing, 

But  two  or  three  words  to  you  I'll  name; 

But  'twill  be  talked  in  Carlisle  town 

That  these  two  old  men  were  all  the  blame. 

"  The  story  is  so  well  composed,  proportion  is  so  well  kept,  on  the  whole, 
that  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  certain  passages  (as  stanzas  3,  4,  50)  may 
have  suffered  some  injury.  .  .  .  But  it  is  a  fine-spirited  ballad  as  it  stands, 
and  very  infectious. 

"  *  This  ballad  is  remarkable,'  observes  Sir  Walter  Scott, '  as  containing  prob- 
ably the  very  latest  allusion  to  the  institution  of  brotherhood  in  arms.'  And 
he  goes  on  to  say :  •  The  quarrel  of  the  two  old  chieftains  over  their  wine  is 
highly  in  character.  Two  generations  have  not  elapsed  [1803]  since  the  custom 
of  drinking  deep  and  taking  deadly  revenge  for  slight  offences  produced  very 
tragical  events  on  the  border;  to  which  the  custom  of  going  armed  to  festive 
meetings  contributed  not  a  little.' "  —  "The  English  and  Scottish  Popular 
Ballads,"  edited  by  Francis  James  Child,  III.,  p.  145. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  127 

SCOTS,  WHA  HAE   WI'   WALLACE  BLED. 

Bohert  Bums. 

Scots,  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled, 
Scots,  wham  Bruce  has  aften  led. 
Welcome  to  your  gory  bed. 

Or  to  Victorie ! 
Now's  the  day,  and  now's  the  hour ; 
See  the  front  o'  battle  lour ; 
See  approach  proud  Edward's  power— 

Chains  and  Slaverie ! 

Wha  will  be  a  traitor  knave  ? 
Wha  can  fill  a  coward's  grave  ? 
Wha  sae  base  as  be  a  Slave  ? 

Let  him  turn  and  flee  ! 
Wha,  for  Scotland's  King  and  Law, 
Freedom's  sword  will  strongly  draw, 
Free-man  stand,  or  Free-man  fa', 

Let  him  on  wi'  me  ! 

By  Oppression's  woes  and  pains  ! 
By  your  sons  in  servile  chains ! 
We  will  drain  our  dearest  veins. 

But  they  shall  be  free ! 
Lay  the  proud  Usurpers  low  ! 
Tyrants  fall  in  every  foe  ! 
Liberty's  in  every  blow  !  — 

Let  us  Bo  —  or  Die  I 


128  THE  STOBT  OF  SIR   WILLIAM  WALLACE.  • 

THE   STORY   OF  SIR  WILLIAM   WALLACE. 

From  Tales  of  a  Grandfather. 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 

(1296-1306.) 

I  TOLD  you,  my  dear  Hugh,  that  Edward  the  First  of  England 
had  reduced  Scotland  almost  entirely  to  the  condition  of  a  con- 
quered country,  although  he  had  obtained  possession  of  the 
kingdom  less  by  his  bravery,  than  by  cunningly  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  disputes  and  divisions  that  followed  amongst  the 
Scots  themselves  after  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Third. 

The  English,  however,  had  in  point  of  fact  obtained  posses- 
sion of  the  country,  and  governed  it  with  much  rigor.  The 
Lord  High  Justice  Ormesby  called  all  men  to  account,  who 
would  not  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  King  Edward.  Many 
of  the  Scots  refused  this,  as  what  the  English  King  had  no 
right  to  demand  from  them.  Such  persons  were  called  into 
the  courts  of  justice,  fined,  deprived  of  their  estates,  and 
otherwise  severely  punished.  Then  Hugh  Cressingham,  the 
English  Treasurer,  tormented  the  Scottish  nation,  by  collect- 
ing money  from  them  under  various  pretexts.  The  Scots  were 
always  a  poor  people,  and  their  native  kings  had  treated  them 
with  much  kindness,  and  seldom  required  them  to  pay  any 
taxes.  They  were,  therefore,  extremely  enraged  at  finding 
themselves  obliged  to  pay  to  the  English  Treasurer  much  larger 
sums  of  money  than  their  own  good  kings  had  ever  demanded 
from  them;  and  they  became  exceedingly  dissatisfied. 

Besides  these  modes  of  oppression,  the  English  soldiers, 
who,  I  told  you,  had  been  placed  in  garrison  in  the  different 
castles  of  Scotland,  thought  themselves  masters  of  the  coun- 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  129 

try,  treated  the  Scots  with  great  contempt,  took  from  them  by 
main  force  whatever  they  had  a  fancy  to,  and  if  the  owners 
offered  to  resist,  abused  them,  beat  and  wounded  and  some- 
times killed  them;  for  which  acts  of  violence  the  English 
officers  did  not  check  or  punish  their  soldiers.  Scotland  was, 
therefore,  in  great  distress,  and  the  inhabitants,  exceedingly 
enraged,  only  wanted  some  leader  to  command  them,  to  rise 
up  in  a  body  against  the  English,  or  Southern  men,  as  they 
called  them,  and  recover  the  liberty  and  independence  of  their 
country,  which  had  been  destroyed  by  Edward  the  First. 

Such  a  leader  arose  in  the  person  of  William  Wallace, 
whose  name  is  still  so  often  mentioned  in  Scotland.  It  is  a 
great  pity  we  do  not  know  exactly  the  history  of  this  brave 
man;  for,  at  the  time  when  he  lived,  every  one  was  so  busy 
fighting,  that  there  was  no  person  to  write  down  the  history 
of  what  took  place;  and  afterwards,  when, there  wgte  more 
leisure  for  composition,  the  truths  that  were  collected  were 
greatly  mingled  with  falsehood.  What  I  shall  tell  you  of 
him,  is  generally  believed  to  be  true. 

William  Wallace  was  none  of  the  high  nobles  of  Scotland, 
but  the  son  of  a  private  gentleman,  called  Wallace  of  Ellers- 
lie,  in  Kenfrewshire,  near  Paisley.  He  was  very  tall  and 
handsome,  and  one  of  the  strongest  and  bravest  men  that  ever 
lived.  He  had  a  very  fine  countenance,  with  a  quantity  of 
fair  hair,  and  was  particularly  dexterous  in  the  use  of  all 
weapons  which  were  then  employed  in  battle.  Wallace,  like 
all  Scotsmen  of  high  spirit,  had  looked  with  great  indignation 
upon  the  usurpation  of  the  crown  by  Edward,  and  upon  the 
insolencies  which  the  English  soldiers  committed  on  his 
countrymen.  It  is  said,  that  when  he  was  very  young,  he 
went  a-fishing  for  sport  in  the  river  of  Irvine,  near  Ayr.  He 
had  caught  a  good  many  trouts,  which  were  carried  by  a  boy, 
who  attended  him  with  a  fishing -basket,   as  is  usual  with 


130  THE  STORY  OF  SIR    WILLIAM  WALLACE. 

anglers.  Two  or  three  English  soldiers,  who  belonged  to  the 
garrison  of  Ayr,  came  up  to  Wallace,  and  insisted,  with  their 
usual  insolence,  on  taking  the  fish  from  the  boy.  Wallace 
was  contented  to  allow  them  a  part  of  the  trouts,  but  he 
refused  to  part  with  the  whole  basketful.  The  soldiers 
insisted,  and  from  words  came  to  blows.  Wallace  had  no 
better  weapon  than  the  but-end  of  his  fishing-rod;  but  he 
struck  the  foremost  of  the  Englishmen  so  hard  under  the  ear 
with  it  that  he  killed  him  on  the  spot ;  and  getting  possession 
of  the  slain  man's  sword,  he  fought  with  so  much  fury  that  he 
put  the  others  to  flight,  and  brought  home  his  fish  safe  and 
sound.  The  English  governor  of  Ayr  sought  for  him,  to 
punish  him  with  death  for  this  action;  but  Wallace  lay  con- 
cealed among  the  hills  and  great  woods  till  the  matter  was 
forgotten,  and  then  appeared  in  another  part  of  the  country. 
He  is  said  to  ha^e  had  other  adventures  of  the  same  kind,  in 
which  he  gallantly  defended  himself,  sometimes  when  alone, 
sometimes  with  very  few  companions,  against  superior  num- 
bers of  the  English,  until  at  last  his  name  became  generally 
known  as  a  terror  to  them. 

But  the  action  which  occasioned  his  finally  rising  in  arms, 
is  believed  to  have  happened  in  the  town  of  Lanark.  Wallace 
was  at  this  time  married  to  a  lady  of  that  place,  and  residing 
there  with  his  wife.  It  chanced,  as  he  walked  in  the  market- 
place, dressed  in  a  green  garment,  with  a  rich  dagger  by  his 
side,  that  an  Englishman  came  up  and  insulted  him  on 
account  of  his  finery,  saying  a  Scotsman  had  no  business  to 
wear  so  gay  a  dress,  or  carry  so  handsome  a  weapon.  It  soon 
came  to  a  quarrel,  as  on  many  former  occasions;  and  Wallace, 
having  killed  the  Englishman,  fled  to  his  own  house,  which 
was  speedily  assaulted  by  all  the  English  soldiers.  While 
they  were  endeavoring  to  force  their  way  in  at  the  front  of  the 
house,  Wallace  escaped  by  a  back-door,  and  got  in  safety  to  a 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  131 

rugged  and  rocky  glen,  near  Lanark,  called  the  Cartland 
Crags,  all  covered  with  bushes  and  trees,  and  full  of  high 
precipices,  where  he  knew  he  should  be  safe  from  the  pursuit 
of  the  English  soldiers.^  In  the  meantime,  the  governor  of 
Lanark,  whose  name  was  Hazelrigg,  burned  Wallace's  house, 
and  put  his  wife  and  servants  to  death;  and  by  committing 
this  cruelty,  increased  to  the  highest  pitch,  as  you  may  well 
believe,  the  hatred  which  the  champion  had  always  borne 
against  the  English  usurper.  Hazelrigg  also  proclaimed 
Wallace  an  outlaw,  and  offered  a  reward  to  any  one  who 
should  bring  him  to  an  English  garrison,  alive  or  dead. 

On  the  other  hand,  Wallace  soon  collected  a  body  of  men, 
outlawed  like  himself,  or  willing  to  become  so,  rather  than 
any  longer  endure  the  oppression  of  the  English.  One  of  his 
earliest  expeditions  was  directed  against  Hazelrigg,  whom  he 
killed,  and  thus-  avenged  the  death  of  his  wife.  He  fought 
skirmishes  with  the  soldiers  who  were  sent  against  him,  and 
often  defeated  them ;  and  in  time  became  so  well  known  and 
so  formidable,  that  multitudes  began  to  resort  to  his  standard, 
until  at  length  he  was  at  the  head  of  a  considerable  army, 
with  which  he  proposed  to  restore  his  country  to  inde- 
pendence. 

About  this  time  is  said  to  have  taken  place  a  memorable 
event,  which  the  Scottish  people  called  the  Bariis  of  Ayr. 
It  is  alleged  that  the  English  governor  of  Ayr  had  invited  the 
greater  part  of  the  Scottish  nobility  and  gentry  in  the  western 
parts,  to  meet  him-  at  some  large  buildings  called  the  Barns  of 
Ayr,  for  the  purpose  of  friendly  conference  upon  the  affairs 
of  the  nation.  But  the  English  Earl  entertained  the  treacher- 
ous purpose  of  putting  the  Scottish  gentlemen  to  death.  The 
English  soldiers  had  halters  with  running  nooses  ready  pre- 

1  In  the  western  face  of  the  chasm  of  Cartland  Crags  a  cave  is  pointed  out 
by  tradition  as  having  been  the  hiding-place  of  Wallace. 


182  THE  STORY  OF  SIB    WILLIAM  WALLACE. 

pared,  and  hung  upon  the  beams  which  supported  the  roof; 
and  as  the  Scottish  gentlemen  were  admitted  by  two  and  two 
at  a  time,  the  nooses  were  thrown  over  their  heads,  and  they 
were  pulled  up  by  the  neck,  and  thus  hanged  or  strangled  to 
death.  Among  those  who  were  slain  in  this  base  and  treacher- 
ous manner,  was,  it  is  said.  Sir  Reginald  Crawford.  Sheriff  of 
the  county  of  Ayr,  and  uncle  to  William  Wallace. 

When  Wallace  heard  of  what  had  befallen,  he  was  dread- 
fully enraged,  and  collecting  his  men  in  a  wood  near  the  town 
of  Ayr,  he  resolved  to  be  revenged  on  the  authors  of  this 
great  crime.  The  English  in  the  meanwhile  made  much 
feasting,  and  when  they  had  eaten  and  drank  plentifully,  they 
lay  down  to  sleep  in  the  same  large  barns  in  which  they  had 
murdered  the  Scottish  gentlemen.  But  Wallace,  learning 
that  they  kept  no  guard  or  watch,  not  suspecting  there  were 
any  enemies  so  near  them,  directed  a  woman  who  knew  the 
place,  to  mark  with  chalk  the  doors  of  the  lodgings  where  the 
Englishmen  lay.  Then  he  sent  a  party  of  men,  who,  with 
strong  ropes,  made  all  the  doors  so  fast  on  the  outside,  that 
those  within  could  not  open  them.  On  the  outside  the  Scots 
had  prepared  heaps  of  straw,  to  which  they  set  fire,  and  the 
Barns  of  Ayr,  being  themselves  made  of  wood,  were  soon 
burning  in  a  bright  flame.  Then  the  English  were  awakened, 
and  endeavored  to  get  out  to  save  their  lives.  But  the  doors, 
as  I  told  you,  were  secured  on  the  outside,  and  bound  fast 
with  ropes ;  and,  besides,  the  blazing  houses  were  surrounded 
by  the  Scots,  who  forced  those  who  got  out  to  run  back  into 
the  fire,  or  else  put  them  to  death  on  the  spot ;  and  thus  great 
numbers  perished  miserably.  Many  of  the  English  were 
lodged  in  a  convent,  but  they  had  no  better  fortune  than  the 
others;  for  the  Prior  of  the  convent  caused  all  the  friars  to 
arm  themselves,  and,  attacking  the  English  guests,  they  put 
most  of  them  to  the  sword.     This  was  called  the  "Friar  of 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  133 

Ayr's  Blessing."  We  cannot  tell  if  this  story  of  the  Barns  of 
Ayr  be  exactly  true ;  but  it  is  probable  there  is  some  founda- 
tion for  it,  as  it  is  universally  believed  in  that  country. 

Thus  Wallace's  party  grew  daily  stronger  and  stronger,  and 
many  of  the  Scottish  nobles  joined  with  him.  Among  these 
was  Sir  William  Douglas,  the  Lord  of  Douglasdale,  and  the 
head  of  a  great  family  often  mentioned  in  Scottish  history. 
There  was  also  Sir  John  the  Grahame,  who  became  Wallace's 
bosom  friend  and  greatest  confident.  Many  of  these  great 
noblemen,  however,  deserted  the  cause  of  the  country  on  the 
approach  of  John  de  Warenne,  Earl  of  Surrey,  the  English 
governor,  at  the  head  of  a  numerous  and  well-appointed  army. 
They  thought  that  Wallace  would  be  unable  to  withstand  the 
attack  of  so  many  disciplined  soldiers  and  hastened  to  submit 
themselves  to  the  English,  for  fear  of  losing  their  estates. 
Wallace,  however,  remained  undismayed,  and  at  the  head  of 
a  considerable  army.  He  had  taken  up  his  camp  upon  the 
northern  side  of  the  river  Forth,  near  the  town  of  Stirling. 
The  river  was  there  crossed  by  a  long  wooden  bridge,  about  a 
mile  above  the  spot  where  the  present  bridge  is  situated. 

The  English  general  approached  the  banks  of  the  river  on 
the  southern  side.  He  sent  two  clergymen  to  offer  a  pardon 
to  Wallace  and  his  followers,  on  condition  that  they  should 
lay  down  their  arms.  But  such  was  not  the  purpose  of  the 
high-minded  champion  of  Scotland. 

"Go  back  to  Warenne,"  said  Wallace,  "and  tell  him  we 
value  not  the  pardon  of  the  King  of  England.  We  are  not 
here  for  the  purpose  of  treating  of  peace,  but  of  abiding 
battle,  and  restoring  freedom  to  our  country.  Let  the  Eng- 
lish come  on ;  —  we  defy  them  to  their  very  beards !  " 

The  English,  upon  hearing  this  haughty  answer,  called 
loudly  to  be  led  to  the  attack.  The  Earl  of  Surrey  hesitated, 
for  he  was  a  skilful  soldier,  and  he  saw  that  to  approach  the 


134  THE  STOBY  OF  SIR   WILLIAM  WALLACE, 

Scottish  army,  his  troops  must  pass  over  the  long,  narrow 
wooden  bridge;  so  that  those  who  should  get  over  first  might 
be  attacked  by  Wallace  with  all  his  forces,  before  those  who 
remained  behind  could  possibly  come  to  their  assistance.  He 
therefore  inclined  to  delay  the  battle.  But  Cressingham  the 
Treasurer,  who  was  ignorant  and  presumptuous,  insisted  that 
it  was  their  duty  to  fight,  and  put  an  end  to  the  war  at  once; 
and  Surrey  gave  way  to  his  opinion,  although  Cressingham, 
being  a  churchman,  could  not  be  so  good  a  judge  of  what  was 
fitting  as  he  himself,  an  experienced  officer. 

The  English  army  began  to  cross  the  bridge,  Cressingham 
leading  the  van,  or  foremost  division  of  the  army;  for,  in 
those  military  days,  even  clergymen  wore  armor  and  fought  in 
battle.  That  took  place  which  Surrey  had  foreseen.  Wallace 
suffered  a  considerable  part  of  the  English  army  to  pass  the 
bridge,  without  offering  any  opposition;  but  when  about  one- 
half  were  over,  and  the  bridge  was  crowded  with  those  who 
were  following,  he  charged  those  who  had  crossed  with  his 
whole  strength,  slew  a  very  great  number,  and  drove  the  rest 
into  the  river  Forth,  where  the  greater  part  were  drowned. 
The  remainder  of  the  English  army,  who  were  left  on  the 
southern  bank  of  the  river,  fled  in  great  confusion,  having 
first  set  fire  to  the  wooden  bridge,  that  the  Scots  might  not 
pursue  them.  Cressingham  was  killed  in  the  very  beginning 
of  the  battle;  and  the  Scots  detested  him  so  much,  that  they 
flayed  the  skin  from  his  dead  body,  and  kept  pieces  of  it,  in 
memory  of  the  revenge  they  had  taken  upon  the  English  Treas- 
urer. Some  say  they  made  saddle-girths  of  this  same  skin;  a 
purpose  for  which  I  do  not  think  it  could  be  very  fit.  It  must 
be  owned  to  have  been  a  dishonorable  thing  of  the  Scots  to 
insult  thus  the  dead  body  of  their  enemy,  and  shows  that  they 
must  have  been  then  a  ferocious  and  barbarous  people. 

The  remains  of  Surrey's  great  army  fled  out  of  Scotland 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  135 

after  this  defeat,  and  the  Scots,  taking  arms  on  all  sides, 
attacked  the  castles  in  which  the  English  soldiers  continued 
to  shelter  themselves,  and  took  most  of  them  by  force  or 
stratagem.  Many  wonderful  stories  are  told  of  Wallace's 
exploits  on  these  occasions,  some  of  which  are  no  doubt  true, 
while  others  are  either  invented  or  very  much  exaggerated. 
It  seems  certain,  however,  that  he  defeated  the  English  in 
several  combats,  chased  them  almost  entirely  out  of  Scotland, 
regained  the  towns  and  castles  of  which  they  had  possessed 
themselves,  and  recovered  for  a  time  the  complete  freedom  of 
the  country.  He  even  marched  into  England  and  laid  Cum- 
berland and  Northumberland  waste,  where  the  Scottish  sol- 
diers, in  revenge  for  the  mischief  which  the  English  had  done 
in  their  country,  committed  great  cruelties.  Wallace  did  not 
approve  of  their  killing  the  people  who  were  not  in  arms,  and 
he  endeavored  to  protect  the  clergymen  and  others  who  were 
not  able  to  defend  themselves.  "Remain  with  me,"  he  said 
to  the  priests  of  Hexham,  a  large  town  in  Northumberland, 
"for  I  cannot  protect  you  from  my  soldiers  when  you  are  out 
of  my  presence."  —  The  troops  who  followed  Wallace  received 
no  pay,  because  he  had  no  money  to  give  them,  and  that  was 
one  great  reason  why  he  could  not  keep  them  under  restraint, 
or  prevent  their  doing  much  harm  to  the  defenceless  country 
people.  He  remained  in  England  more  than  three  weeks,  and 
did  a  great  deal  of  mischief  to  the  country. 

Indeed,  it  appears  that,  though  Wallace  disapproved  of 
slaying  priests,  women,  and  children,  he  partook  of  the  feroc- 
ity of  the  times  so  much,  as  to  put  to  death  without  quarter 
all  whom  he  found  in  arms.  In  the  north  of  Scotland  the 
English  had  placed  a  garrison  in  the  strong  Castle  of  Dunnot- 
tar,  which,  built  on  a  large  and  precipitous  rock,  overhangs 
the  raging  sea.  Though  the  place  is  almost  inaccessible, 
Wallace  and  his  followers  found  their  way  into  the  castle, 


136  THE  STORY  OF  SIR    WILLIAM  WALLACE. 

while  the  garrison  in  great  terror  fled  into  the  church  or 
chapel,  which  was  built  on  the  very  verge  of  the  precipice. 
This  did  not  save  them,  for  Wallace  caused  the  church  to  be 
set  on  fire.  The  terrified  garrison,  involved  in  the  flames,  ran 
some  of  them  upon  the  points  of  the  Scottish  swords,  while 
others  threw  themselves  from  the  precipice  into  the  sea  and 
swam  along  to  the  cliffs,  where  they  hung  like  sea-fowl, 
screaming  in  vain  for  mercy  and  assistance. 

The  followers  of  Wallace  were  frightened  at  this  dreadful 
scene,  and  falling  on  their  knees  before  the  priests  who 
chanced  to  be  in  the  army,  they  asked  forgiveness  for  having 
committed  so  much  slaughter  within  the  limits  of  a  church 
dedicated  to  the  service  of  God.  But  Wallace  had  so  deep  a 
sense  of  the  injuries  which  the  English  had  donie  to  his  coun- 
try that  he  only  laughed  at  the  contrition  of  his  soldiers.  — 
"I  will  absolve  you  all  myself,"  he  said.  "Are  you  Scottish 
soldiers,  and  do  you  repent  for  a  trifle  like  this,  which  is  not 
half  what  the  invaders  deserved  at  our  hands?''  So  deep- 
seated  was  Wallace's  feeling  of  national  resentment  that  it 
seems  to  have  overcome,  in  such  instances,  the  scruples  of  a 
temper  which  was  naturally  humane. 

Edward  I.  was  in  Flanders  when  all  these  events  took 
place.  You  may  suppose  he  was  very  angry  when  he  learned 
that  Scotland,  which  he  thought  completely  subdued,  had  risen 
into  a  great  insurrection  against  him,  defeated  his  armies, 
killed  his  Treasurer,  chased  his  soldiers  out  of  their  country, 
and  invaded  England  with  a  great  force.  He  came  back  from 
Flanders  in  a  mighty  rage,  and  determined  not  to  leave  that 
rebellious  country  until  it  was  finally  conquered,  for  which 
purpose  he  assembled  a  very  fine  army  and  marched  into 
Scotland. 

In  the  meantime  the  Scots  prepared  to  defend  themselves, 
and  chose  Wallace  to  be  Governor,  or  Protector  of  the  king- 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  137 

dom,  because  they  had  no  King  at  the  time.  He  was  now 
titled  Sir  William  Wallace,  Protector,  or  Governor,  of  the 
Scottish  nation.  But  although  Wallace,  as  we  have  seen,  was 
the  best  soldier  and  bravest  man  in  Scotland,  and  therefore 
the  most  fit  to  be  placed  in  command  at  this  critical  period, 
when  the  King  of  England  was  coming  against  them  with 
such  great  forces,  yet  the  nobles  of  Scotland  envied  him  this 
important  situation,  because  he  was  not  a  man  born  in  high 
rank,  or  enjoying  a  large  estate.  So  great  was  their  jealousy 
of  Sir  William  Wallace,  that  many  of  these  great  barons  did 
not  seem  very  willing  to  bring  forward  their  forces,  or  fight 
against  the  English,  because  they  would  not  have  a  man  of 
inferior  condition  to  be  general.  This  was  base  and  mean 
conduct,  and  it  was  attended  with  great  disasters  to  Scotland. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  this  unwillingness  of  the  great  nobility 
to  support  him,  Wallace  assembled  a  large  army ;  for  the  mid- 
dling, but  especially  the  lower  classes,  were  very  much 
attached  to  him.  He  marched  boldly  against  the  King  of 
England,  and  met  him  near  the  town  of  Falkirk.  Most  of 
the  Scottish  army  were  on  foot,  because,  as  I  already  told  you, 
in  those  days  only  the  nobility  and  great  men  of  Scotland 
fought  on  horseback.  The  English  King,  on  the  contrary, 
had  a  very  large  body  of  the  finest  cavalry  in  the  world, 
Normans  and  English,  all  clothed  in  complete  armor.  He 
had  also  the  celebrated  archers  of  England,  each  of  whom 
was  said  to  carry  twelve  Scotsmen's  lives  under  his  girdle; 
because  every  archer  had  twelve  arrows  stuck  in  his  belt, 
and  was  expected  to  kill  a  man  with  every  arrow. 

The  Scots  had  some  good  archers  from  the  Forest  of 
Ettrick,  who  fought  under  command  of  Sir  John  Stewart  of 
Bonkill ;  but  they  were  not  nearly  equal  in  number  to  the 
English.  The  greater  part  of  the  Scottish  army  were  on  foot, 
armed  with  long  spears;  they  were  placed  thick  and  close 


138  THE  STORY  OF  SIB    WILLIAM   WALLACE. 

together,  and  laid  all  their  spears  so  close,  point  over  point, 
that  it  seemed  as  difficult  to  break  through  them,  as  through 
the  wall  of  a  strong  castle.  When  the  two  armies  were 
drawn  up  facing  each  other,  Wallace  said  to  his  soldiers,  "  I 
have  brought  you  to  the  ring,  let  me  see  how  you  can  dance ;  " 
meaning,  I  have  brought  you  to  the  decisive  field  of  battle, 
let  me  see  how  bravely  you  can  fight. 

The  English  made  the  attack.  King  Edward,  though  he 
saw  the  close  ranks,  and  undaunted  appearance,  of  the 
Scottish  infantry,  resolved  nevertheless  to  try  whether  he 
could  not  ride  them  down  with  his  fine  cavalry.  He  there- 
fore gave  his  horsemen  orders  to  advance.  They  charged 
accordingly,  at  full  gallop.  It  must  have  been  a  terrible 
thing  to  have  seen  these  fine  horses  riding  as  hard  as  they 
could  against  the  long  lances,  which  were  held  out  by  the 
Scots  to  keep  them  back;  and  a  dreadful  cry  arose  when  they 
came  against  each  other. 

The  first  line  of  cavalry  was  commanded  by  the  Earl 
Marshal  of  England,  whose  progress  was  checked  by  a  morass. 
The  second  line  of  English  horse  was  commanded  by  Antony 
Beck,  the  Bishop  of  Durham,  who,  nevertheless,  wore  armor, 
and  fought  like  a  lay  baron.  He  wheeled  round  the  morass; 
but  when  he  saw  the  deep  and  firm  order  of  the  Scots,  his 
heart  failed,  and  he  proposed  to  Sir  Ralph  Basset  of  Drayton, 
who  commanded  under  him,  to  halt  till  Edward  himself 
brought  up  the  reserve.  "Go  say  your  mass,  Bishop," 
answered  Basset  contemptuously,  and  advanced  at  full  gallop 
with  the  second  line.  However,  the  Scots  stood  their  ground 
with  their  long  spears ;  many  of  the  foremost  of  the  English 
horses  were  thrown  down,  and  the  riders  were  killed  as  they 
lay  rolling,  unable  to  rise,  owing  to  the  weight  of  their  heavy 
armor.  But  the  Scottish  horse  did  not  come  to  the  assistance 
of  their  infantry,  but,  on  the  contrary,  fled  away  from  the 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  139 

battle.  It  is  supposed  that  this  was  owing  to  the  treachery 
or  ill-will  of  the  nobility,  who  were  jealous  of  Wallace. 
But  it  must  be  considered  that  the  Scottish  cavalry  were  few 
in  number;  and  that  they  had  much  worse  arms,  and  weaker 
horses,  than  their  enemies.  The  English  cavalry  attempted 
again  and  again  to  disperse  the  deep  and  solid  ranks  in  which 
Wallace  had  stationed  his  foot  soldiers.  But  they  were 
repeatedly  beaten  off  with  loss,  nor  could  they  make  their 
way  through  that  wood  of  spears,  as  it  is  called  by  one  of 
the  English  historians.  King  Edward  then  commanded  his 
archers  to  advance ;  and  these  approaching  within  arrow-shot 
of  the  Scottish  ranks,  poured  on  them  such  close  and  dread- 
ful volleys  of  arrows,  that  it  was  impossible  to  sustain  the 
discharge.  It  happened  at  the  same  time,  that  Sir  John 
Stewart  was  killed  by  a  fall  from  his  horse ;  and  the  archers 
of  Ettrick  Forest,  whom  he  was  bringing  forward  to  oppose 
those  of  King  Edward,  were  slain  in  great  numbers  around 
him.  Their  bodies  were  afterwards  distinguished  among  the 
slain,  as  being  the  tallest  and  handsomest  men  of  the  army. 

The  Scottish  spearmen  being  thus  thrown  into  some  degree 
of  confusion,  by  the  loss  of  those  who  were  slain  by  the 
arrows  of  the  English,  the  heavy  cavalry  of  Edward  again 
charged  with  more  success  than  formerly,  and  broke  through 
the  ranks,  which  were  already  disordered.  Sir  John  Gra- 
hame,  Wallace's  great  friend  and  companion,  was  slain,  with 
many  other  brave  soldiers ;  and  the  Scots,  having  lost  a  very 
great  number  of  men,  were  at  length  obliged  to  take  to  flight. 

This  fatal  battle  was  fought  upon  the  twenty-second  of  July, 
1298.  Sir  John  the  Grahame  lies  buried  in  the  churchyard  of 
Falkirk.  A  tombstone  was  laid  over  him,  which  has  been 
three  times  renewed  since  his  death.  The  inscription  bears, 
"  That  Sir  John  the  Grahame,  equally  remarkable  for  wisdom 
and  courage,  and  the  faithful  friend  of  Wallace,  being  slain  iu 


140  THE  STORY  OF  SIB    WILLIAM  WALLACE, 

battle  by  the  English,  lies  buried  in  this  place."  A  large  oak- 
tree  -in  the  adjoining  forest  was  long  shown  as  marking  the 
spot  where  Wallace  slept  before  the  battle,  or,  as  others  said, 
in  which  he  hid  himself  after  the  defeat.  Nearly  forty  years 
ago,  Grandpapa  saw  some  of  its  roots  j  but  the  body  of  the 
tree  was  even  then  entirely  decayed,  and  there  is  not  now, 
and  has  not  been  for  many  years,  the  least  vestige  of  it  to  be 
seen. 

After  this  fatal  defeat  of  Falkirk,  Sir  William  Wallace 
seems  to  have  resigned  his  office  of  Governor  of  Scotland. 
Several  nobles  were  named  Guardians  in  his  place,  and  con- 
tinued to  make  resistance  to  the  English  armies;  and  they 
gained  some  advantages,  particularly  near  Eoslin,  where  a 
body  of  Scots,  commanded  by  John  Comyn  of  Badenoch,  who 
was  one  of  the  Guardians  of  the  kingdom,  and  another  dis- 
tinguished commander,  called  Simon  Eraser,  defeated  three 
armies,  or  detachments,  of  English  in  one  day. 

Nevertheless,  the  King  of  England  possessed  so  much 
wealth,  and  so  many  means  of  raising  soldiers,  that  he  sent 
army  after  army  into  the  poor  oppressed  country  of  Scotland, 
and  obliged  all  its  nobles  and  great  men,  one  after  another, 
to  submit  themselves  once  more  to  his  yoke.  Sir  William 
Wallace,  alone,  or  with  a  very  small  band  of  followers, 
refused  either  to  acknowledge  the  usurper  Edward,  or  to  lay 
down  his  arms.  He  continued  to  maintain  himself  among 
the  woods  and  mountains  of  his  native  country  for  no  less 
than  seven  years  after  his  defeat  at  Falkirk,  and  for  more 
than  one  year  after  all  the  other  defenders  of  Scottish  liberty 
had  laid  down  their  arms.  Many  proclamations  were  sent 
out  against  him  by  the  English,  and  a  great  reward  was  set 
upon  his  head;  for  Edward  did  not  think  he  could  have  any 
secure  possession  of  his  usurped  kingdom  of  Scotland  while 
Wallace    lived.      At    length  he  was  taken  prisoner;    and, 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  141 

shame  it  is  to  say,  a  Scotsman,  called  Sir  John  Menteith,  was 
the  person  by  whom  he  was  seized  and  delivered  to  the  Eng- 
lish. It  is  generally  said  that  he  was  made  prisoner  at 
Eobroyston,  near  Glasgow;  and  the  tradition  of  the  country 
bears,  that  the  signal  made  for  rushing  upon  him  and  taking 
him  at  unawares,  was,  when  one  of  his  pretended  friends, 
who  betrayed  him,  should  turn  a  loaf,  which  was  placed  on 
the  table,  with  its  bottom  or  flat  side  uppermost.  And  in 
after  times  it  was  reckoned  ill -breeding  to  turn  a  loaf  in  that 
manner,  if  there  was  a  person  named  Menteith  in  company; 
since  it  was  as  much  as  to  remind  him,  that  his  namesake  had 
betrayed  Sir  William  Wallace,  the  Champion  of  Scotland. 

Whether  Sir  John  Menteith  was  actually  the  person  by 
whom  Wallace  was  betrayed,  is  not  perfectly  certain.  He 
was,  however,  the  individual  by  whom  the  patriot  was  made 
prisoner  and  delivered  up  to  the  English,  for  which  his  name 
and  his  memory  have  been  long  loaded  with  disgrace. 

Edward,  having  thus  obtained  possession  of  the  person 
whom  he  considered  as  the  greatest  obstacle  to  his  complete 
conquest  of  Scotland,  resolved  to  make  Wallace  an  example 
to  all  Scottish  patriots  who  should  in  future  venture  to  oppose 
his  ambitious  projects.  He  caused  this  gallant  defender  of 
his  country  to  be  brought  to  trial  in  Westminster-hall,  before 
the  English  judges,  and  produced  him  there,  crowned  in 
mockery,  with  a  green  garland,  because  they  said  he  had  been 
king  of  outlaws  and  robbers  among  the  Scottish  woods. 
Wallace  was  accused  of  having  been  a  traitor  to  the  English 
crown;  to  which  he  answered,  "I  could  not  be  a  traitor  to 
Edward,  for  I  was  never  his  subject."  He  was  then  charged 
with  having  taken  and  burnt  towns  and  castles,  with  having 
killed  many  men  and  done  much  violence.  He  replied,  with 
the  same  calm  resolution,  "  that  it  was  true  he  had  killed  very 
many  Englishmen,  but  it  was  because  they  had  come  to  sub- 


142  THE  STORY  OF  SIR    WILLIAM   WALLACE. 

due  and  oppress  his  native  country  of  Scotland;  and  far  from 
repenting  what  he  had  done,  he  declared  he  was  only  sorry 
that  he  had  not  put  to  death  many  more  of  them." 

Notwithstanding  that  Wallace's  defence  was  a  good  one, 
both  in  law  and  in  common  sense,  (for  surely  every  one  has 
not  only  a  right  to  fight  in  defence  of  his  native  country,  but 
is  bound  in  duty  to  do  so, )  the  English  judges  condemned  him 
to  be  executed.  So  this  brave  patriot  was  dragged  upon  a 
sledge  to  the  place  of  execution,  where  his  head  was  struck 
off,  and  his  body  divided  into  four  quarters,  which,  according 
to  the  cruel  custom  of  the  time,  were  exposed  upon  spikes 
of  iron  on  London  Bridge,  and  were  termed  the  limbs  of  a 
traitor. 

No  doubt  King  Edward  thought  that  by  exercising  this 
great  severity  towards  so  distinguished  a  patriot  as  Sir 
William  Wallace,  he  should  terrify  all  the  Scots  into  obedi- 
ence, and  so  be  able  in  future  to  reign  over  their  country 
without  resistance.  But  though  Edward  was  a  powerful,  a 
brave,  and  a  wise  king,  and  though  he  took  the  most  cautious, 
as  well  as  the  most  strict  measures,  to  preserve  the  obedience 
of  Scotland,  yet  his  claim,  being  founded  in  injustice  and 
usurpation,  was  not  permitted  by  Providence  to  be  established 
in  security  or  peace.  Sir  William  Wallace,  that  immortal 
supporter  of  the  independence  of  his  country,  was  no  sooner 
deprived  of  his  life,  in  the  cruel  and  unjust  manner  1  have 
told  you,  than  other  patriots  arose  to  assert  the  cause  of 
Scottish  liberty. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  143 

THE  RISE  OF  ROBERT  THE  BRUCE. 
(1305-1310.) 

I  HOPE,  my  dear  child,  that  you  have  not  forgotten  that  all 
the  cruel  wars  in  Scotland  arose  out  of  the  debate  between  the 
great  lords  who  claimed  the  throne  after  King  Alexander  the 
Third's  death,  which  induced  the  Scottish  nobility  rashly  to 
submit  the  decision  of  that  matter  to  King  Edward  of  Eng- 
land, and  thus  opened  the  way  to  his  endeavoring  to  seize  the 
kingdom  of  Scotland  to  himself.  You  recollect  also,  that 
Edward  had  dethroned  John  Baliol,  on  account  of  his  attempt- 
ing to  restore  the  independence  of  Scotland;  and  that  Baliol 
had  resigned  the  crown  of  Scotland  into  the  hands  of  Edward 
as  Lord  Paramount.  This  John  Baliol,  therefore,  was  very 
little  respected  in  Scotland;  he  had  renounced  the  kingdom, 
and  had  been  absent  from  it  for  fifteen  years,  during  the 
greater  part  of  which  time  he  remained  a  prisoner  in  the 
hands  of  the  King  of  England. 

It  was  therefore  natural  that  such  of  the  people  as  were 
still  determined  to  fight  for  the  deliverance  of  their  country 
from  the  English  yoke,  should  look  around  for  some  other 
king,  under  whom  they  might  unite  themselves,  to  combat 
the  power  of  England.  The  feeling  was  universal  in  Scot- 
land, that  they  would  not  any  longer  endure  the  English  gov- 
ernment ;  and  therefore  such  great  Scottish  nobles  as  believed 
they  had  right  to  the  crown,  began  to  think  of  standing  for- 
ward to  claim  it. 

Amongst  these,  the  principal  candidates  (supposing  John 
Baliol,  by  his  renunciation  and  captivity,  to  have  lost  all 
right  to  the  kingdom)  were  two  powerful  noblemen.  The 
first  was  Robert  Bruce,  Earl  of  Carrick,  the  grandson  of 
that  elder   Robert    Bruce,  who    disputed   the    throne   with 


144  THE  RISE  OF  BOBERT  THE  BRUCE, 

John  Baliol.  The  other  was  John  Comyn,  or  Cuming, 
of  Badenoch,  usually  called  the  Eed  Comyn,  to  distinguish 
him  from  his  kinsman,  the  Black  Comyn,  so  named  from  his 
swarthy  complexion.  These  two  great  and  powerful  barons 
had  taken  part  with  Sir  William  Wallace  in  the  wars  against 
England;  but,  after  the  defeat  of  Falkirk,  being  fearful  of 
losing  their  great  estates,  and  considering  the  freedom  of 
Scotland  as  beyond  the  possibility  of  being  recovered,  both 
Bruce  and  Comyn  had  not  only  submitted  themselves  to 
Edward,  and  acknowledged  his  title  as  King  of  Scotland,  but 
even  borne  arms,  along  with  the  English,  against  such  of 
their  countrymen  as  still  continued  to  resist  the  usurper.  But 
the  feelings  of  Bruce  concerning  the  baseness  of  this  conduct, 
are  said,  by  the  old  tradition  of  Scotland,  to  have  been  awak- 
ened by  the  following  incident.  In  one  of  the  numerous 
battles,  or  skirmishes,  which  took  place  at  the  time  between 
the  English  and  their  adherents  on  the  one  side,  and  the 
insurgent  or  patriotic  Scots  upon  the  other,  Robert  the  Bruce 
was  present,  and  assisted  the  English  to  gain  the  victory. 
After  the  battle  was  over,  he  sat  down  to  dinner  among  his 
southern  friends  and  allies,  without  washing  his  hands,  on 
which  there  still  remained  spots  of  the  blood  which  he  had 
shed  during  the  action.  The  English  lords,  observing  this, 
whispered  to  each  other,  in  mockery,  "  Look  at  that  Scotsman, 
who  is  eating  his  own  blood!  "  Bruce  heard  what  they  said, 
and  began  to  reflect  that  the  blood  upon  his  hands  might  be 
indeed  called  his  own,  since  it  was  that  of  his  brave  country- 
men, who  were  fighting  for  the  independence  of  Scotland, 
whilst  he  was  assisting  its  oppressors,  who  only  laughed  at 
and  mocked  him  for  his  unnatural  conduct.  He  was  so  much 
shocked  and  disgusted,  that  he  arose  from  table,  and,  going 
into  a  neighboring  chapel,  shed  many  tears,  and  asking  pardon 
of  God  for  the  great  crime  he  had  been  guilty  of,  made  a 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  145 

solemn  vow  that  he  would  atone  for  it,  by  doing  all  in  his 
power  to  deliver  Scotland  from  the  foreign  yoke.  Accord- 
ingly, he  left,  it  is  said,  the  English  army,  and  never  joined 
it  again,  but  remained  watching  an  opportunity  for  restoring 
the  freedom  of  his  country. 

Now,  this  Robert  the  Bruce  was  a  remarkably  brave  and 
strong  man ;  there  was  no  man  in  Scotland  that  was  thought 
a  match  for  him  except  Sir  William  Wallace ;  and  now  that 
Wallace  was  dead,  Bruce  was  held  the  best  warrior  in  Scot- 
land. He  was  very  wise  and  prudent,  and  an  excellent  gen- 
eral; that  is,  he  knew  how  to  conduct  an  army,  and  place 
them  in  order  for  battle,  as  well  or  better  than  any  great  man 
of  his  time.  He  was  generous,  too,  and  courteous  by  nature ; 
but  he  had  some  faults,  which  perhaps  belonged  as  much  to 
the  fierce  period  in  which  he  lived  as  to  his  own  character. 
He  was  rash  and  passionate,  and  in  his  passion,  he  was 
sometimes  relentless  and  cruel. 

Robert  the  Bruce  had  fixed  his  purpose,  as  I  told  you,  to 
attempt  once  again  to  drive  the  English  out  of  Scotland,  and 
he  desired  to  prevail  upon  Sir  John  the  Red  Comyn,  who  was 
his  rival  in  his  pretensions  to  the  throne,  to  join  with  him  in 
expelling  the  foreign  enemy  by  their  common  efforts.  With 
this  purpose,  Bruce  posted  down  from  London  to  Dumfries, 
on  the  borders  of  Scotland,  and  requested  an  interview  with 
John  Comyn.  They  met  in  the  church  of  the  Minorites  in 
that  town,  before  the  high  altar.  What  passed  betwixt  them 
is  not  known  with  certainty;  but  they  quarrelled,  either  con- 
cerning their  mutual  pretensions  to  the  crown,  or  because 
Comyn  refused  to  join  Bruce  in  the  proposed  insurrection 
against  the  English;  or,  as  many  writers  say,  because  Bruce 
charged  Comyn  with  having  betrayed  to  the  English  his  pur- 
pose of  rising  up  against  King  Edward.  It  is,  however, 
certain,  that  these  two  haughty  barons  came  to  high  and 


146  THE  RISE  OF  ROBERT  THE  BRUCE. 

abusive  words,  until  at  length  Bruce,  who  I  told  you  was 
extremely  passionate,  forgot  the  sacred  character  of  the  place 
in  which  they  stood,  and  struck  Comyn  a  blow  with  his 
dagger.  Having  done  this  rash  deed,  he  instantly  ran  out  of 
the  church  and  called  for  his  horse.  Two  gentlemen  of  the 
country,  Lindesay  and  Kirkpatrick,  friends  of  Bruce,  were 
then  in  attendance  on  him.  Seeing  him  pale,  bloody,  and  in 
much  agitation,  they  eagerly  inquired  what  was  the  matter. 

"I  doubt,"  said  Bruce,  "that  I  have  slain  the  Red  Comyn." 

"Do  you  leave  such  a  matter  in  doubt?"  said  Kirkpatrick. 
"  I  will  make  sicker !  "  —  that  is,  I  will  make  certain. 

Accordingly,  he  and  his  companion  Lindesay  rushed  into 
the  church,  and  made  the  matter  certain  with  a  vengeance,  by 
dispatching  the  wounded  Comyn  with  their  daggers.  His 
uncle.  Sir  Eobert  Comyn,  was  slain  at  the  same  time. 

This  slaughter  of  Comyn  was  a  rash  and  cruel  action; 
and  the  historian  of  Bruce  observes,  that  it  was  followed  by 
the  displeasure  of  Heaven;  for  no  man  ever  went  through 
more  misfortunes  than  Robert  Bruce,  although  he  at  length 
rose  to  great  honor. 

After  the  deed  was  done,  Bruce  might  be  called  desperate. 
He  had  committed  an  action  which  was  sure  to  bring  down 
upon  him  the  vengeance  of  all  Comyn's  relations,  the  resent- 
ment of  the  King  of  England,  and  the  displeasure  of  the 
Church,  on  account  of  having  slain  his  enemy  within  conse- 
crated ground.  He  determined,  therefore,  to  bid  them  all 
defiance  at  once,  and  to  assert  his  pretensions  to  the  throne 
of  Scotland.  He  drew  his  own  followers  together,  summoned 
to  meet  him  such  barons  as  still  entertained  hopes  of  the 
freedom  of  the  country,  and  was  crowned  King  at  the  Abbey 
of  Scone,  the  usual  place  where  the  Kings  of  Scotland  assumed 
their  authority. 

Everything  relating  to  the  ceremony  was  hastily  performed. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  147 

A  small  circlet  of  gold  was  hurriedly  made,  to  represent  the 
ancient  crown  of  Scotland,  which  Edward  had  carried  off  to 
England.  The  Earl  of  Fife,  descendant  of  the  brave  Macduff, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  have  placed  the  crown  on  the  King's 
head,  would  not  give  his  attendance,  but  the  ceremonial  was 
performed  by  his  sister,  Isabella,  Countess  of  Buchan,  though 
without  the  consent  either  of  her  brother  or  husband.  A 
few  barons,  whose  names  ought  to  be  dear  to  their  country, 
joined  Bruce  in  his  attempt  to  vindicate  the  independence  of 
Scotland. 

Edward  was  dreadfully  incensed  when  he  heard  that,  after 
all  the  pains  which  he  had  taken,  and  all  the  blood  which 
had  been  spilled,  the  Scots  were  making  this  new  attempt  to 
shake  off  his  authority.  Though  now  old,  feeble,  and  sickly, 
he  made  a  solemn  vow,  at  a  great  festival,  in  presence  of  all 
his  court,  that  he  would  take  the  most  ample  vengeance 
upon  Eobert  the  Bruce  and  his  adherents;  after  which  he 
would  never  again  draw  his  sword  upon  a  Christian,  but 
would  only  fight  against  the  unbelieving  Saracens  for  the 
recovery  of  the  Holy  Land.  He  marched  against  Bruce 
accordingly,  at  the  head  of  a  powerful  army. 

The  commencement  of  Bruce 's  undertaking  was  most  dis- 
astrous. He  was  crowned  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  March,  1306. 
On  the  eighteenth  of  May  he  was  excommunicated  by  the 
Pope,  on  account  of  the  murder  of  Comyn  within  consecrated 
ground,  a  sentence  which  excluded  him  from  all  benefits  of 
religion,  and  authorized  any  one  to  kill  him.  Finally,  on  the 
nineteenth  of  June,  the  new  King  was  completely  defeated 
near  Methven  by  the  English  Earl  of  Pembroke.  Kobert's 
horse  was  killed  under  him  in  the  action,  and  he  was  for  a 
moment  a  prisoner.  But  he  had  fallen  into  the  power  of  a 
Scottish  knight,  who,  though  he  served  in  the  English  army, 
did  not  choose  to  be  the  instrument  of  putting  Bruce  into 


148  THE  RISE  OF  ROBERT  THE  BRUCE. 

their  hands,  and  allowed  him  to  escape.  The  conquerors  ex- 
ecuted their  prisoners  with  their  usual  cruelty.  Among  these 
were  some  gallant  young  men  of  the  first  Scottish  families  — 
Hay,  ancestor  of  the  Earls  of  Errol,  Somerville,  Eraser,  and 
others,  who  were  mercilessly  put  to  death. 

Bruce,  with  a  few  brave  adherents,  among  whom  was  the 
young  Lord  of  Douglas,  who  was  afterwards  called  the  Good 
Lord  James,  retired  into  the  Highland  mountains,  where  they 
were  chased  from  one  place  of  refuge  to  another,  often  in 
great  danger,  and  suffering  many  hardships.  The  Bruce 's 
wife,  now  Queen  of  Scotland,  with  several  other  ladies,  accom- 
panied her  husband  and  his  few  followers  during  their  wan- 
derings. There  was  no  other  way  of  providing  for  them  save 
by  hunting  and  fishing.  It  was  remarked,  that  Douglas  was 
the  most  active  and  successful  in  procuring  for  the  unfor- 
tunate ladies  such  supplies,  as  his  dexterity  in  fishing  or  in 
killing  deer  could  furnish  to  them. 

Driven  from  one  place  in  the  Highlands  to  another,  starved 
out  of  some  districts,  and  forced  from  others  by  the  opposi- 
tion of  the  inhabitants,  Bruce  attempted  to  force  his  way  into 
Lorn;  but  he  found  enemies  everywhere.  The  M'Dougals,  a 
powerful  family,  then  called  Lords  of  Lorn,  were  friendly  to 
the  English,  and  putting  their  men  in  arms,  attacked  Bruce 
and  his  wandering  companions  as  soon  as  they  attempted  to 
enter  their  territory.  The  chief  to  these  M'Dougals,  called 
John  of  Lorn,  hated  Bruce  on  account  of  his  having  slain  the 
Eed  Comyn  in  the  church  at  Dumfries,  to  whom  this  M'Dou- 
gal  was  nearly  related.  Bruce  was  again  defeated  by  this 
chief,  through  force  of  numbers,  at  a  place  called  Dairy;  but 
he  showed,  amidst  his  misfortunes,  the  greatness  of  his 
strength  and  courage.  He  directed  his  men  to  retreat 
through  a  narrow  pass,  and  placing  himself  last  of  the  party, 
he  fought  with  and  slew  such  of  the  enemy  as  attempted  to 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  149 

press  hard  on  them.  Three  followers  of  M'Dougal,  a  father 
and  two  sons,  called  M'Androsser,  all  very  strong  men,  when 
they  saw  Bruce  thus  protecting  the  retreat  of  his  followers, 
made  a  vow  that  they  would  either  kill  this  redoubted  cham- 
pion, or  make  him  prisoner.  The  whole  three  rushed  on  the 
King  at  once.  Bruce  was  on  horseback,  in  the  strait  pass  we 
have  described,  betwixt  a  precipitous  rock  and  a  deep  lake. 
He  struck  the  first  man  who  came  up  and  seized  his  horse's 
rein,  such  a  blow  with  his  sword,  as  cut  •  off  his  hand  and 
freed  the  bridle.  The  man  bled  to  death.  The  other  brother 
had  grasped  Bruce  in  the  meantime  by  the  leg,  and  was 
attempting  to  throw  him  from  horseback.  The  King,  setting 
spurs  to  his  horse,  made  the  animal  suddenly  spring  forward, 
so  that  the  Highlander  fell  under  the  horse's  feet,  and,  as  he 
was  endeavoring  to  rise  again,  Bruce  cleft  his  head  in  two  with 
his  sword.  The  father,  seeing  his  two  sons  thus  slain,  flew 
desperately  at  the  King,  and  grasped  him  by  the  mantle  so 
close  to  his  body,  that  he  could  not  have  room  to  wield  his 
long  sword.  But  with  the  heavy  pommel  of  that  weapon,  or, 
as  others  say,  with  an  iron  hammer  which  hung  at  his  saddle- 
bow, the  King  struck  this  third  assailant  so  dreadful  a  blow, 
that  he  dashed  out  his  brains.  Still,  however,  the  High- 
lander kept  his  dying  grasp  on  the  King's  mantle;  so  that,  to 
be  free  of  the  dead  body,  Bruce  was  obliged  to  undo  the 
brooch,  or  clasp,  by  which  it  was  fastened,  and  leave  that, 
and  the  mantle  itself,  behind  him.  The  brooch,  which  fell 
thus  into  the  possession  of  M'Dougal  of  Lorn,  is  still  pre- 
served in  that  ancient  family,  as  a  memorial  that  the  cele- 
brated Kobert  Bruce  once  narrowly  escaped  falling  into  the 
hands  of  their  ancestor.  ^     Eobert  greatly  resented  this  attack  ^ 

2  **  Barbour  adds  the  following  circumstance,  highly  characteristic  of  the 
sentiments  of  chivalry.  MacNaughton,  a  Baron  of  Cowal,  pointed  out  to  the 
Lord  of  Lorn  the  deeds  of  valor  which  Bruce  performed  on  this  memorable 
retreat,  with  the  highest  expression  of  admiration.    'It  seems  to  give  thee 


150  THE  RISE  OF  BOBERT  THE  BBUCE. 

upon  him;  and  when  he  was  in  happier  circumstances,  did 
not  fail  to  take  his  revenge  on  M'Dougal,  or,  as  he-  is  usually 
called,  John  of  Lorn. 

The  King  met  with  many  such  encounters  amidst  his 
dangerous  and  dismal  wanderings;  yet,  though  almost  always 
defeated  by  the  superior  numbers  of  the  English,  and  of  such 
Scots  as  sided  with  them,  he  still  kept  up  his  own  spirits  and 
those  of  his  followers.  He  was  a  better  scholar  than  was 
usual  in  those  days,  when,  except  clergymen,  few  people 
leairned  to  read  and  write.  But  King  Robert  could  do  both 
very  well;  and  we  are  told  that  he  sometimes  read  aloud  to 
his  companions,  to  amuse  them  when  they  were  crossing  the 
great  Highland  lakes  in  such  wretched  leaky  boats  as  they 
could  find  for  that  purpose.  Loch  Lomond,  in  particular,  is 
said  to  have  been  the  scene  of  such  a  lecture.  You  may  see 
by  this,  how  useful  it  is  to  possess  knowledge  and  accom- 
plishments. If  Bruce  could  not  have  read  to  his  associates, 
and  diverted  their  thoughts  from  their  dangers  and  sufferings, 
he  might  not  perhaps  have  been  able  to  keep  up  their  spirits, 
or  secure  their  continued  attachment. 

At  last  dangers  increased  so  much  around  the  brave  King 
Robert,  that  he  was  obliged  to  separate  himself  from  his 
Queen  and  her  ladies;  for  the  winter  was  coming  on,  and  it 
would  be  impossible  for  the  women  to  endure  this  wandering 
sort  of  life  when  the  frost  and  snow  should  set  in.  So  Bruce 
left  his  Queen,  with  the  Countess  of  Buchan  and  others,  in 
the  only  castle  which  remained  to  him,  which  was  called 
Kildrummie,  and  is  situated  near  the  head  of  the  river  Don 

pleasure,'  said  Lorn,  *  that  he  makes  such  havoc  among  our  friends.'  *  Not  so, 
by  my  faith,'  replied  MacNaughton ;  '  but  be  he  friend  or  foe  who  achieves  high 
deeds  of  chivalry,  men  should  bear  faithful  witness  to  his  valor;  and  never 
have  I  heard  of  one  who,  by  his  knightly  feats,  has  extricated  himself  from 
such  dangers  as  have  this  day  surrounded  Bruce.'  "  —  Lord  of  the  Isles,  Note 
to  Canto  II.,  iStanza  XI. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  151 

in  Aberdeenshire.  The  King  also  left  his  youngest  brother, 
Nigel  Bruce,  to  defend  the  castle  against  the  English;  and  he 
himself,  with  his  second  brother  Edward,  who  was  a  very- 
brave  man,  but  still  more  rash  and  passionate  than  Robert 
himself,  went  over  to  an  island  called  Eachrin,  on  the  coast 
of  Ireland,  where  Bruce  and  the  few  men  who  followed  his 
fortunes  passed  the  winter  of  1306.  In  the  meantime,  ill 
luck  seemed  to  pursue  all  his  friends  in  Scotland.  The  castle 
of  Kildrummie  was  taken  by  the  English,  and  Nigel  Bruce, 
a  beautiful  and  brave  youth,  was  cruelly  put  to  death  by  the 
victors.  The  ladies  who  had  attended  on  Robert's  Queen, 
as  well  as  the  Queen  herself,  and  the  Countess  of  Buchan, 
were  thrown  into  strict  confinement,  and  treated  with  the 
utmost  severity. 

The  Countess  of  Buchan,  as  I  before  told  you,  had  given 
Edward  great  offence  by  being  the  person  who  placed  the 
crown  on  the  head  of  Robert  Bruce.  She  was  imprisoned 
within  the  Castle  of  Berwick,  in  a  cage  made  on  purpose. 
Some  Scottish  authors  have  pretended  that  this  cage  was 
hung  over  the  walls  with  the  poor  Countess,  like  a  parrot's 
cage  out  at  a  window.  But  this  is  their  own  ignorant  idea. 
The  cage  of  the  Lady  Buchan  was  a  strong  wooden  and  iron 
piece  of  f  rame-Avork,  placed  within  an  apartment,  and  resembling 
one  of  those  places  in  which  wild-beasts  are  confined.  There 
were  such  cages  in  most  old  prisons  to  which  captives  were 
consigned,  who,  either  for  mutiny,  or  any  other  reason,  were 
to  be  confined  with  peculiar  rigor. 

The  news  of  the  taking  of  Kildrummie,  the  captivity  of  his 
wife,  and  the  execution  of  his  brother,  reached  Bruce  while 
he  was  residing  in  a  miserable  dwelling  at  Rachrin,  and 
reduced  him  to  the  point  of  despair. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  an  incident  took  place,  which, 
although  it  rests  only  on  tradition  in  families  of  the  name  of 


162  THE  RISE  OF  ROBERT  THE  BRUCE. 

Bruce,  is  rendered  probable  by  the  manners  of  the  times. 
After  receiving  the  last  unpleasing  intelligence  from  Scot- 
land, Bruce  was  lying  one  morning  on  his  wretched  bed,  and 
deliberating  with  himself  whether  he  had  not  better  resign  all 
thoughts  of  again  attempting  to  make  good  his  right  to  the 
Scottish  crown,  and,  dismissing  his  followers,  transport  him- 
self and  his  brothers  to  the  Holy  Land,  and  spend  the  rest 
of  his  life  in  fighting  against  the  Saracens;  by  which  he 
thought,  perhaps,  he  might  deserve  the  forgiveness  of  Heaven 
for  the  great  sin  of  stabbing  Comyn  in  the  church  at  Dum- 
fries. But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  he  thought  it  would  be 
both  criminal  and  cowardly  to  give  up  his  attempts  to  restore 
freedom  to  Scotland  while  there  yet  remained  the  least 
chance  of  his  being  successful  in  an  undertaking,  which, 
rightly  considered,  was  much  more  his  duty  than  to  drive 
the  infidels  out  of  Palestine,  though  the  superstition  of  his 
age  might  think  otherwise. 

While  he  was  divided  betwixt  these  reflections,  and  doubt- 
ful of  what  he  should  do,  Bruce  was  looking  upward  to  the 
roof  of  the  cabin  in  which  he  lay ;  and  his  eye  was  attracted 
by  a  spider,  which,  hanging  at  the  end  of  a  long  thread  of 
its  own  spinning,  was  endeavoring,  as  is  the  fashion  of  that 
creature,  to  swing  itself  from  one  beam  in  the  roof  to  another, 
for  the  purpose  of  fixing  the  line  on  which  it  meant  to  stretch 
its  web.  The  insect  made  the  attempt  again  and  again 
without  success;  at  length  Bruce  counted  that  it  had  tried 
to  carry  its  point  six  times,  and  been  as  often  unable  to  do 
so.  It  came  into  his  head  that  he  had  himself  fought  just 
six  battles  against  the  English  and  their  allies,  and  that  the 
poor  persevering  spider  was  exactly  in  the  same  situation 
with  himself,  having  made  as  many  trials  and  been  as  often 
disappointed  in  what  it  aimed  at.  "Now,"  thought  Bruce, 
"as  I  have  no  means  of  knowing  what  is  best  to  be  don€,  I 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  153 

will  be  guided  by  the  luck  which  shall  attend  this  spider.  If 
the  insect  shall  make  another  effort  to  fix  its  thread,  and 
shall  be  successful,  I  will  venture  a  seventh  time  to  try  my 
fortune  in  Scotland;  but  if  the  spider  shall  fail,  I  will  go  to 
the  wars  in  Palestine,  and  never  return  to  my  native  country 
more." 

While  Bruce  was  forming  this  resolution  the  spider  made 
another  exertion  with  all  the  force  it  could  muster,  and  fairly 
succeeded  in  fastening  its  thread  to  the  beam  which  it  had 
so  often  in  vain  attempted  to  reach.  Bruce,  seeing  the  suc- 
cess of  the  spider,  resolved  to  try  his  own  fortune;  and  as 
he  had  never  before  gained  a  victory,  so  he  never  afterwards 
sustained  any  considerable  or  decisive  check  or  defeat.  I 
have  often  met  with  people  of  the  name  of  Bruce,  so  com- 
pletely persuaded  of  the  truth  of  this  story,  that  they  would 
not  on  any  account  kill  a  spider,  because  it  was  that  insect 
which  had  shown  the  example  of  perseverance,  and  given  a 
signal  of  good  luck,  to  their  great  namesake. 

Having  determined  to  renew  his  efforts  to  obtain  possession 
of  Scotland,  notwithstanding  the  smallness  of  the  means 
which  he  had  for  accomplishing  so  great  a  purpose,  the 
Bruce  removed  himself  and  his  followers  from  Kachrin  to 
the  island  of  Arran,  which  lies  in  the  mouth  of  the  Clyde. 
The  King  landed  and  inquired  of  the  first  woman  he  met 
what  armed  men  were  in  the  island.  She  returned  for  answer 
that  there  had  arrived  there  very  lately  a  body  of  armed 
strangers,  who  had  defeated  an  English  ofiicer,  the  governor 
of  the  castle  of  Brathwick,  had  killed  him  and  most  of  his 
men,  and  were  now  amusing  themselves  with  hunting  about 
the  island.  The  King,  having  caused  himself  to  be  guided 
to  the  woods  which  these  strangers  most  frequented,  there 
blew  his  horn  repeatedly.  Now,  the  chief  of  the  strangers 
who  had  taken  the  castle  was  James  Douglas,  whom  we  have 


154  THE  RISE  OF  ROBERT   THE  BRUCE, 

already  mentioned  as  one  of  the  best  of  Bruce's  friends,  and 
he  was  accompanied  by  some  of  the  bravest  of  that  patriotic 
band.  When  he  heard  Robert  Bruce's  horn,  he  knew  the 
sound  well,  and  cried  out,  that  yonder  was  the  King,  he  knew 
by  his  manner  of  blowing.  So  he  and  his  companions  has- 
tened to  meet  King  Robert,  and  there  was  great  joy  on  both 
sides;  whilst  at  the  same  time  they  could  not  help  weeping 
when  they  considered  their  own  forlorn  condition,  and  the 
great  loss  that  had  taken  place  among  their  friends  since  they 
had  last  parted.  But  they  were  stout-hearted  men,  and 
looked  forward  to  freeing  their  country  in  spite  of  all  that 
had  yet  happened.^ 

The  Bruce  was  now  within  sight  of  Scotland,  and  not 
distant  from  his  own  family  possessions,  where  the  people 
were  most  likely  to  be  attached  to  him.  He  began  immedi- 
ately to  form  plans  with  Douglas  how  they  might  best  renew 
their  enterprise  against  the  English.  The  Douglas  resolved 
to  go  disguised  to  his  own  country,  and  raise  his  followers 
in  order  to  begin  their  enterprise  by  taking  revenge  on  an 
English  nobleman  called  Lord  Clifford,  upon  whom  Edward 
had  conferred  his  estates,  and  who  had  taken  up  his  residence 
in  the  castle  of  Douglas. 

Bruce,  on  his  part,  opened  a  communication  with  the  oppo- 
site coast  of  Carrick,  by  means  of  one  of  his  followers  called 
Cuthbert.  This  person  had  directions,  that  if  he  should  find 
the  countrymen  in  Carrick  disposed  to  take  up  arms  against 
the  English  he  was  to  make  a  fire  on  a  headland,  or  lofty 
cape,  called  Turnberry,  on  the  coast  of  Ayrshire,  opposite  to 
the  island  of  Arran.     The  appearance  of  a  fire  on  this  place 

*  "  There  are  several  natural  caves;  the  principal,  and  whfch  highly  excites 
the  curiosity  of  strangers  of  all  ranks,  is  one  in  the  west  of  the  island,  oppo- 
site to  Campbeltown,  called  the  Kinr/'s  Cave,  because,  as  tradition  asserts, 
King  Robert  Bruce  and  his  retinue  lodged  in  it  for  some  time  when  taking 
shelter  in  retired  places,"  —  4'/*ran,  Statistical  Account  0/ Scotlanci, 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  155 

was  to  be  a  signal  for  Bruce  to  put  to  sea  with  such  men  as 
he  had,  who  were  not  more  than  three  hundred  in  number, 
for  the  purpose  of  landing  in  Carrick  and  joining  the 
insurgents. 

Bruce  and  his  men  watched  eagerly  for  the  signal,  but  for 
some  time  in  vain.  At  length  a  fire  on  Turnberry-head  became 
visible,  and  the  King  and  his  followers  merrily  betook  them- 
selves to  their  ships  and  galleys,  concluding  their  Carrick 
friends  were  all  in  arms  and  ready  to  join  with  them.  They 
landed  on  the  beach  at  midnight,  where  they  found  their 
spy  Cuthbert  alone  in  waiting  for  them  with  very  bad  news. 
Lord  Percy,  he  said,  was  in  the  country  with  two  or  three 
hundred  Englishmen,  and  had  terrified  the  people  so  much, 
both  by  actions  and  threats,  that  none  of  them  dared  to  think 
of  rebelling  against  King  Edward. 

"Traitor!"  said  Bruce,  "why,  then,  did  you  make  the 
signal?" 

"Alas,"  replied  Cuthbert,  "the  fire  was  not  made  by  me, 
but  by  some  other  person,  for  what  purpose  I  know  not;  but 
as  soon  as  I  saw  it  burning,  I  knew  that  you  would  come 
over,  thinking  it  my  signal,  and  therefore  I  came  down  to 
wait  for  you  on  the  beach,  to  tell  you  how  the  matter  stood." 

King  Robert's  first  idea  was  to  return  to  Arran  after  this 
disappointment;  but  his  brother  Edward  refused  to  go  back. 
He  was,  as  I  have  told  you,  a  man  daring  even  to  rashness. 
"I  will  not  leave  my  native  land,"  he  said,  "now  that  I  am 
so  unexpectedly  restored  to  it.  I  will  give  freedom  to  Scot- 
land, or  leave  my  carcass  on  the  surface  of  the  land  which 
gave  me  birth." 

Bruce,  also,  after  some  hesitation,  determined  that  since 
he  had  been  thus  brought  to  the  mainland  of  Scotland,  he 
would  remain  there,  and  take  such  adventure  and  fortune  as 
Heaven  should  send  him. 


156  THE  BISE  OF  ROBERT  THE  BBUCE. 

Accordingly,  he  began  to  skirmish  with  the  English  so 
successfully,  as  obliged  the  Lord  Percy  to  quit  Carrick. 
Bruce  then  dispersed  his  men  upon  various  adventures  against 
the  enemy,  in  which  they  were  generally  successful.  But 
then,  on  the  other  hand,  the  King,  being  left  with  small 
attendance,  or  sometimes  almost  alone,  ran  great  risk  of 
losing  his  life  by  treachery  or  by  open  violence.  Several 
of  these  incidents  are  very  interesting.  I  will  tell  you  some 
of  them. 

At  one  time,  a  near  relation  of  Bruce's,  in  whom  he  entirely 
confided,  was  induced  by  the  bribes  of  the  English  to  attempt 
to  put  him  to  death.  This  villain,  with  his  two  sons,  watched 
the  King  one  morning,  till  he  saw  him  separated  from  all  his 
men,  excepting  a  little  boy,  who  waited  on  him  as  a  page.  The 
father  had  a  sword  in  his  hand,  one  of  the  sons  had  a  sword 
and  a  spear,  and  the  other  had  a  sword  and  a  battle-axe. 
Now,  when  the  King  saw  them  so  well  armed,  when  there 
were  no  enemies  near,  he  began  to  call  to  mind  some  hints 
which  had  been  given  to  him,  that  these  men  intended  to 
murder  him.  He  had  no  weapons  excepting  his  sword;  but 
his  page  had  a  bow  and  arrow.  He  took  them  both  from  the 
little  boy,  and  bade  him  stand  at  a  distance ;  "  for, "  said  the 
King,  "if  I  overcome  these  traitors,  thou  shalt  have  enough 
of  weapons ;  but  if  I  am  slain  by  them,  you  may  make  your 
escape,  and  tell  Douglas  and  my  brother  to  revenge  my 
death."  The  boy  was  very  sorry,  for  he  loved  his  master; 
but  he  was  obliged  to  do  as  he  was  bidden. 

In  the  meantime  the  traitors  came  forward  upon  Bruce, 
that  they  might  assault  him  at  once.  The  King  called  out 
to  them,  and  commanded  them  to  come  no  nearer,  upon  peril 
of  their  lives ;  but  the  father  answered  with  flattering  words, 
pretending  great  kindness,  and  still  continuing  to  approach 
his  person.     Then  the  King  again  called  to  them  to  stand. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  157 

"Traitors,"  said  he,  "ye  have  sold  my  life  for  English  gold; 
but  you  shall  die  if  you  come  one  foot  nearer  to  me."  With 
that  he  bent  the  page's  bow,  and  as  the  old  conspirator  con- 
tinued to  advance,  he  let  the  arrow  fly  at  him.  Bruce  was  an 
excellent  archer;  he  aimed  his  arrow  so  well  that  it  hit  the 
father  in  the  eye,  and  penetrated  from  that  into  his  brain,  so 
that  he  fell  down  dead.  Then  the  two  sons  rushed  on  the 
King.  One  of  them  fetched  a  blow  at  him  with  an  axe,  but 
missed  his  stroke  and  stumbled,  so  that  the  King  with  his 
great  sword  cut  him  down  before  he  could  recover  his  feet. 
The  remaining  traitor  ran  on  Bruce  with  his  spear;  but  the 
King,  with  a  sweep  of  his  sword,  cut  the  steel  head  off  the 
villain's  weapon,  and  then  killed  him  before  he  had  time  to 
draw  his  sword.  Then  the  little  page  came  running,  very 
joyful  of  his  master's  victory;  and  the  King  wiped  his  bloody 
sword,  and  looking  upon  the  dead  bodies,  said,  "  These  might 
have  been  reputed  three  gallant  men,  if  they  could  have 
resisted  the  temptation  of  covetousness." 

In  the  present  day,  it  is  not  necessary  that  generals,  or 
great  officers,  should  fight  with  their  own  hand,  because  it  is 
only  their  duty  to  direct  the  movements  and  exertions  of 
their  followers.  The  artillery  and  the  soldiers  shoot  at  the 
enemy;  and  men  seldom  mingle  together  and  fight  hand  to 
hand.  But  in  the  ancient  times  kings  and  great  lords  were 
obliged  to  put  themselves  into  the  very  front  of  the  battle 
and  fight  like  ordinary  men,  with  the  lance  and  other  weapons. 
It  was,  therefore,  of  great  consequence  that  they  should  be 
strong  men,  and  dexterous  in  the  use  of  their  arms.  Kobert 
Bruce  was  so  remarkably,  active  and  powerful  that  he  came 
through  a  great  many  personal  dangers,  in  which  he  must 
otherwise  have  been  slain.  I  will  tell  you  another  of  his 
adventures  which  I  think  will  amuse  you. . 

After  the  death  of  these  three  traitors,  Robert  the  Bruce 


158  THE  RISE  OF  ROBERT  THE  BRUCE. 

continued  to  keep  himself  concealed  in  his  own  earldom  of 
Carrick,  and  in  the  neighboring  country  of  Galloway,  until 
he  should  have  matters  ready  for  a  general  attack  upon  the 
English.  He  was  obliged,  in  the  meantime,  to  keep  very  few 
men  with  him,  both  for  the  sake  of  secrecy,  and  from  the 
difficulty  of  finding  provisions.  Now,  many  of  the  people  of 
Galloway  were  unfriendly  to  Bruce.  They  lived  under  the 
government  of  one  M'Dougal,  related  to  the  Lord  of  Lorn, 
who,  as  I  before  told  you,  had  defeated  Bruce  at  Dairy,  and 
very  nearly  killed  or  made  him  prisoner.  These  Galloway 
men  had  heard  that  Bruce  was  in  their  country,  having  no 
more  than  sixty  men  with  him;  so  they  resolved  to  attack 
him  by  surprise,  and  for  this  purpose  they  got  two  hundred 
men  together,  and  brought  with  them  two  or  three  blood- 
hounds. These  animals  were  trained  to  chase  a  man  by  the 
scent  of  his  footsteps,  as  foxhounds  chase  a  fox,  or  as  beagles 
and  harriers  chase  a  hare.  Although  the  dog  does  not  see  the 
person  whose  trace  he  is  put  upon,  he  follows  him  over  every 
step  he  has  taken.  At  that  time  these  bloodhounds,  or 
sleuthhounds  (so  called  from  slot,  or  sleut,  a  word  which  sig- 
nifies the  scent  left  by  an  animal  of  chase),  were  used  for  the 
purpose  of  pursuing  great  criminals.  The  men  of  Galloway 
thought  themselves  secure,  that  if  they  missed  taking  Bruce, 
or  killing  him  at  the  first  onset,  and  if  he  should  escape  into 
the  woods,  they  would  find  him  out  by  means  of  these 
bloodhounds. 

The  good  King  Robert  Bruce,  who  was  always  watchful 
and  vigilant,  had  received  some  information  of  the  intention 
of  this  party  to  come  upon  him  suddenly  and  by  night. 
Accordingly,  he  quartered  his  little  troop  of  sixty  men  on  the 
side  of  a  deep  and  swift-running  river,  that  had  very  steep 
and  rocky  banks.  There  was  but  one  ford  by  which  this 
river  could  be  crossed  in  that  neighborhood,  and  that  ford 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  159 

was  deep  and  narrow,  so  that  two  men  could  scarcely  get 
through  abreast;  the  ground  on  which  they  were  to  land  on 
the  side  where  the  King  was,  was  steep,  and  the  path  which 
led  upwards  from  the  water's  edge  to  the  top  of  the  bank, 
extremely  narrow  and  difficult. 

.  Bruce  caused  his  men  to  lie  down  to  take  some  sleep,  at  a 
place  about  half  a  mile  distant  from  the  river,  while  he  him- 
self, with  two  attendants,  went  down  to  watch  the  ford, 
through  which  the  enemy  must  needs  pass  before  they  could 
come  to  the  place  where  King  Robert's  men  were  lying.  He 
stood  for  some  time  looking  at  the  ford,  and  thinking  how 
easily  the  enemy  might  be  kept  from  passing  there,  provided 
it  was  bravely  defended,  when  he  heard  at  a  distance  the 
baying  of  a  hound,  which  was  always  coming  nearer  and 
nearer.  This  was  the  bloodhound  which  was  tracing  the 
King's  steps  to  the  ford  where  he  had  crossed,  and  the  two 
hundred  Galloway  men  were  along  with  the  animal,  and 
guided  by  it.  Bruce  at  first  thought  of  going  back  to  awaken 
his  men;  but  then  he  reflected  that  it  might  be  only  some 
shepherd's  dog.  "My  men,"  said  he,  "are  sorely  tired;  I 
will  not  disturb  their  sleep  for  the  yelping  of  a  cur,  till  I 
know  something  more  of  the  matter."  So  he  stood  and 
listened;  and  by  and  by,  as  the  cry  of  the  hound  came  nearer, 
he  began  to  hear  a  trampling  of  horses,  and  the  voices  of 
men,  and  the  ringing  and  clattering  of  armor,  and  then  he 
was  sure  the  enemy  were  coming  to  the  river  side.  Then  the 
King  thought,  "  If  I  go  back  to  give  my  men  the  alarm,  these 
Galloway  men  will  get  through  the  ford  without  opposition ; 
and  that  would  be  a  pity,  since  it  is  a  place  so  advantageous 
to  make  defence  against  them."  So  he  looked  again  at  the 
steep  path,  and  the  deep  river,  and  he  thought  that  they  gave 
him  so  much  advantage,  that  he  himself  could  defend  the 
passage  with  his  own  hand,  until  his  men  came  to  assist  him. 


160  THE  BISE  OF  BOBERT  THE  BBUCE. 

His  armor  was  so  good  and  strong,  that  he  had  no  fear  of 
arrows,  and  therefore  the  combat  was  not  so  very  unequal  as 
it  must  have  otherwise  been.  He  therefore  sent  his  followers 
to  waken  his  men,  and  remained  alone  by  the  bank  of  the 
river. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  noise  and  trampling  of  the  horses 
increased;  and  the  moon  being  bright,  Bruce  beheld  thp 
glancing  arms  of  about  two  hundred  men,  who  came  down  to 
the  opposite  bank  of  the  river.  The  men  of  Galloway,  on 
their  part,  saw  but  one  solitary  figure  guarding  the  ford,  and 
the  foremost  of  them  plunged  into  the  river  without  minding 
him.  But  as  they  could  only  pass  the  ford  one  by  one,  the 
Bruce,  who  stood  high  above  them  on  the  bank  where  they 
were  to  land,  killed  the  foremost  man  with  a  thrust  of  his 
long  spear,  and  with  a  second  thrust  stabbed  the  horse,  which 
fell  down,  kicking  and  plunging  in  his  agonies,  on  the  narrow 
path,  and  so  prevented  the  others  who  were  following  from 
getting  out  of  the  river.  Bruce  had  thus  an  opportunity  of 
dealing  his  blows  at  pleasure  among  them,  while  they  could 
not  strike  at  him  again.  In  the  confusion,  five  or  six  of  the 
enemy  were  slain,  or,  having  been  borne  down  the  current, 
were  drowned  in  the  river.  The  rest  were  terrified,  and 
drew  back. 

But  when  the  Galloway  men  looked  again,  and  saw  they 
were  opposed  by  only  one  man,  they  themselves  being  so 
many,  they  cried  out,  that  their  honor  would  be  lost  forever 
if  they  did  not  force  their  way;  and  encouraged  each  other, 
with  loud  cries,  to  plunge  through  and  assault  him.  But  by 
this  time  the  King's  soldiers  came  up  to  his  assistance,  and 
the  Galloway  men  retreated,  and  gave  up  their  enterprise.* 

*  "  When  the  soldiers  came  up,  they  found  the  King  wearied,  but  un wounded, 
and  sitting  on  a  bank,  where  he  had  cast  off  his  helmet  to  wipe  his  brow,  and 
cool  himself  in  the  night  air."  —  Ty tier's  History  0/ Scotland. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  161 

I  will  tell  you  another  story  of  this  brave  Robert  Bruce 
during  his  wanderings.  His  adventures  are  as  curious  and 
entertaining  as  those  which  men  invent  for  story  books,  with 
this  advantage,  that  they  are  all  true. 

About  the  time  when  the  Bruce  was  yet  at  the  head  of  but 
few  men,  Sir  Aymer  de  Valence,  who  was  Earl  of  Pembroke, 
together  with  John  of  Lorn,  came  into  Galloway,  each  of 
them  being  at  the  head  of  a  large  body  of  men.  John  of 
Lorn  had  a  bloodhound  with  him,  which  it  was  said  had 
formerly  belonged  to  Robert  Bruce  himself;  and  having  been 
fed  by  the  King  with  his  own  hands,  it  became  attached  to 
him,  and  would  follow  his  footsteps  anywhere,  as  dogs  are 
well  known  to  trace  their  master's  steps,  whether  they  be 
bloodhounds  or  not.  By  means  of  this  hound,  John  of  Lorn 
thought  he  should  certainly  find  out  Bruce,  and  take  revenge 
on  him  for  the  death  of  his  relation  Comyn. 

When  these  two  armies  advanced  upon  King  Robert,  he  at 
first  thought  of  fighting  the  English  Earl;  but  becoming 
aware  that  John  of  Lorn  was  moving  round  with  another 
large  body  to  attack  him  in  the  rear,  he  resolved  to  avoid 
fighting  at  that  time,  lest  he  should  be  oppressed  by  numbers. 
For  this  purpose,  the  King  divided  the  men  he  had  with  him 
into  three  bodies,  and  commanded  them  to  retreat  by  three 
different  ways,  thinking  the  enemy  would  not  know  which 
party  to  pursue.  He  also  appointed  a  place  at  which  they 
were  to  assemble  again.  But  when  John  of  Lorn  came  to  the 
place  where  the  army  of  Bruce  had  been  thus  divided,  the 
bloodhound  took  his  course  after  one  of  these  divisions, 
neglecting  the  other  two,  and  then  John  of  Lorn  knew  that 
the  King  must  be  in  that  party;  so  he  also  made  no  pursuit 
after  the  two  other  divisions  of  the  Scots,  but  followed  that 
which  the  dog  pointed  out,  with  all  his  men. 

The  King  again  saw  that  he  was  followed  by  a  large  body, 


162  THE  mSE  OF  nOBERT  THE  BRUCE. 

and  being  determined  to  escape  from  them  if  possible,  he 
made  all  the  people  who  were  with  him  disperse  themselves 
different  ways,  thinking  thus  that  the  enemy  must  needs  lose 
trace  of  him.  He  kept  only  one  man  along  with  him,  and 
that  was  his  own  foster-brother,  or  the  son  of  his  nurse. 
When  John  of  Lorn  came  to  the  place  where  Bruce 's  com- 
panions had  dispersed  themselves,  the  bloodhound,  after  it 
had  snuffed  up  and  down  for  a  little,  quitted  the  footsteps  of 
all  the  other  fugitives,  and  ran  barking  upon  the  track  of  two 
men  out  of  the  whole  number.  Then  John  of  Lorn  knew  that 
one  of  these  two  must  needs  be  King  Eobert.  Accordingly, 
he  commanded  five  of  his  men  that  were  speedy  of  foot  to 
chase  after  him,  and  either  make  him  prisoner  or  slay  him. 
The  Highlanders  started  off  accordingly,  and  ran  so  fast,  that 
they  gained  sight  of  Robert  and  his  foster-brother.  The 
King  asked  his  companion  what  help  he  could  give  him,  and 
his  foster-brother  answered  he  was  ready  to  do  his  best.  So 
these  two  turned  on  the  five  men  of  John  of  Lorn,  and  killed 
them  all.  It  is  to  be  supposed  they  were  better  armed  than 
the  others  were,  as  well  as  stronger  and  more  desperate. 

But  by  this  time  Bruce  was  very  much  fatigued,  and  yet 
they  dared  not  sit  down  to  take  any  rest;  for  whenever  they 
stopt  for  an  instant,  they  heard  the  cry  of  the  bloodhound 
behind  them,  and  knew  by  that,  that  their  enemies  were  com- 
ing up  fast  after  them.  At  length,  they  came  to  a  wood, 
through  which  ran  a  small  river.  Then  Bruce  said  to  his 
foster-brother,  "Let  us  wade  down  this  stream  for  a  great 
way,  instead  of  going  straight  across,  and  so  this  unhappy 
hound  will  lose  the  scent;  for  if  we  were  once  clear  of  him., 
I  sho.uld  not  be  afraid  of  getting  away  from  the  pursuers." 
Accordingly,  the  King  and  his  attendant  walked  a  great  way 
down  the  stream,  taking  care  to  keep  their  feet  in  the  water, 
which  could  not  retain  any  scent  where  they  had  stepped. 


THE  BEAUT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  163 

Then  they  came  ashore  on  the  further  side  from  the  enemy, 
and  went  deep  into  the  wood  before  they  stopped  to  rest 
themselves.  In  the  meanwhile,  the  hound  led  John  of  Lorn 
straight  to  the  place  where  the  King  went  into  the  water, 
but  there  the  dog  began  to  be  puzzled,  not  knowing  where  to 
go  next ;  for  you  are  well  aware  that  the  running  water  could 
not  retain  the  scent  of  a  man's  foot,  like  that  which  remains 
on  turf.  So,  John  of  Lorn  seeing  the  dog  was  at  fault,  as  it 
is  called,  that  is,  had  lost  the  track  of  that  which  he  pursued, 
he  gave  up  the  chase,  and  returned  to  join  with  Aymer  de 
Valence. 

But  King  Robert's  adventures  were  not  yet  ended.  His 
foster-brother  and  he  had  rested  themselves  in  the  wood,  but 
they  had  got  no  food,  and  were  become  extremely  hungry. 
They  walked  on,  however,  in  hopes  of  coming  to  some  habita- 
tion. At  length,  in  the  midst  of  the  forest,  they  met  with 
three  men  who  looked  like  thieves  or  ruffians.  They  were 
well  armed,  and  one  of  them  bore  a  sheep  on  his  back,  which 
it  seemed  as  if  they  had  just  stolen.  They  saluted  the  King 
civilly;  and  he,  replying  to  their  salutation,  asked  them 
where  they  were  going.  The  men  answered,  they  were  seek- 
ing for  Robert  Bruce,  for  that  they  intended  to  join  with  him. 
The  King  answered,  that  if  they  would  go  with  him,  he  would 
conduct  them  where  they  would  find  the  Scottish  King.  Then 
the  man  who  had  spoken  changed  countenance,  and  Bruce, 
who  looked  sharply  at  him,  began  to  suspect  that  the  ruffian 
guessed  who  he  was,  and  that  he  and  his  companions  had 
some  design  against  his  person,  in  order  to  gain  the  reward 
which  had  been  offered  for  his  life. 

So  he  said  to  them,  "  My  good  friends,  as  we  are  not  well 
acquainted  with  each  other,  you  must  go  before  us,  and  we 
will  follow  near  to  you." 

"You  have  no  occasion  to  suspect  any  harm  from  us,"  an- 
swered the  man. 


164  THE  BISE  OF  ROBERT  THE  BRUCE. 

"Neither  do  I  suspect  any/'  said  Bruce;  "but  this  is  the 
way  in  which  I  choose  to  travel." 

The  men  did  as  he  commanded,  and  thus  they  travelled  till 
they  came  together  to  a  waste  and  ruinous  cottage,  where  the 
men  proposed  to  dress  some  part  of  the  sheep,  which  their 
companion  was  carrying.  The  King  was  glad  to  hear  of  food; 
but  he  insisted  that  there  should  be  two  fires  kindled,  one  for 
himself  and  his  foster-brother  at  one  end  of  the  house,  the 
other  at  the  other  end  for  their  three  companions.  The  men 
did  as  he  desired.  They  broiled  a  quarter  of  mutton  for 
themselves,  and  gave  another  to  the  King  and  his  attendant. 
They  were  obliged  to  eat  it  without  bread  or  salt;  but  as  they 
were  very  hungry,  they  were  glad  to  get  food  in  any  shape, 
and  partook  of  it  very  heartily. 

Then  so  heavy  a  drowsiness  fell  on  King  Eobert,  that,  for 
all  the  danger  he  was  in,  he  could  not  resist  an  inclination  to 
sleep.  But  first,  he  desired  his  foster-brother  to  watch  while 
he  slept,  for  he  had  great  suspicion  of  their  new  acquaint- 
ances. His  foster-brother  promised  to  keep  awake,  and  did 
his  best  to  keep  his  word.  But  the  King  had  not  been  long 
asleep  ere  his  foster-brother  fell  into  a  deep  slumber  also,  for 
he  had  undergone  as  much  fatigue  as  the  King.  When  the 
three  villains  saw  the  King  and  his  attendant  asleep,  they 
made  signs  to  each  other,  and  rising  up  at  once,  drew  their 
swords  with  the  purpose  to  kill  them  both.  But  the  King 
slept  but  lightly,  and  little  noise  as  the  traitors  made  in 
rising,  he  was  awakened  by  it,  and  starting  up,  drew  his 
sword,  and  went  to  meet  them.  At  the  same  moment  he 
pushed  his  foster-brother  with  his  foot,  to  awaken  him,  and 
he  got  on  his  feet;  but  ere  he  got  his  eyes  cleared  to  see  what 
was  about  to  happen,  one  of  the  ruffians  that  were  advancing 
to  slay  the  King,  killed  him  with  a  stroke  of  his  sword.  The 
King  was   now  alone,   one   man   against  three,   and  in  the 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  165 

greatest  danger  of  his  life;  but  his  amazing  strength,  and 
the  good  armor  which  he  wore,  freed  him  once  more  from  this 
great  peril,  and  he  killed  the  three  men,  one  after  another. 
He  then  left  the  cottage,  very  sorrowful  for  the  death  of  his 
faithful  foster-brother,  and  took  his  direction  towards  the 
place  where  he  had  appointed  his  men  to  assemble  after  their 
dispersion.  It  was  now  near  night,  and  the  place  of  meeting 
being  a  farm-house,  he  went  boldly  into  it,  where  he  found 
the  mistress,  an  old  true-hearted  Scotswoman,  sitting  alone. 
Upon  seeing  a  stranger  enter,  she  asked  him  who  and  what 
he  was.  The  King  answered  that  he  was  a  traveller,  who  was 
journeying  through  the  country. 

"All  travellers,"  answered  the  good  woman,  "are  welcome 
here, for  the  sake  of  one." 

"And  who  is  that  one,"  said  the  King,  "for  whose  sake  you 
make  all  travellers  welcome?" 

"It  is  our  rightful  King,  Eobert  the  Bruce,"  answered  the 
mistress,  "who  is  the  lawful  lord  of  this  country;  and  al- 
though he  is  now  pursued  and  hunted  after  with  hounds  and 
horns,  I  hope  to  live  to  see  him  King  over  all  Scotland." 

"Since  you  love  him  so  well  dame,"  said  the  King,  "know 
that  you  see  him  before  you.     I  am  Robert  the  Bruce." 

"  You ! "  said  the  good  woman,  in  great  surprise ;  "  and 
wherefore  are  you  thus  alone?  —  where  are  all  your  men?" 

"I  have  none  with  me  at  this  moment,"  answered  Bruce, 
"and  therefore  I  must  travel  alone." 

"But  that  shall  not  be,"  said  the  brave  old  dame,  "for  I 
have  two  stout  sons,  gallant  and  trusty  men,  who  shall  be 
your  servants  for  life  and  death." 

So  she  brought  her  two  sons,  and  though  she  well  knew  the 
dangers  to  which  she  exposed  them,  she  made  them  swear 
fidelity  to  the  King;  and  they  afterwards  became  high 
officers  in  his  service. 


166  THE  BISE  OF  ROBERT  THE  BRUCE. 

Now,  the  loyal  old  woman  was  getting  everything  ready 
for  the  King's  supper,  when  suddenly  there  was  a  great 
trampling  of  horses  heard  round  the  house.  They  thought  it 
must  be  some  of  the  English,  or  John  of  Lorn's  men,  and  the 
good  wife  called  upon  her  sons  to  fight  to  the  last  for  King 
Kobert.  But  shortly  after,  they  heard  the  voice  of  the  Good 
Lord  James  of  Douglas,  and  of  Edward  Bruce,  the  King's 
brother,  who  had  come  with  a  hundred  and  fifty  horsemen  to 
this  farm-house,  according  to  the  instructions  that  the  King 
had  left  with  them  at  parting. 

Robert  the  Bruce  was  right  joyful  to  meet  his  brother,  and 
his  faithful  friend  Lord  James ;  and  had  no  sooner  found 
himself  once  more  at  the  head  of  such  a  considerable  body  of 
followers,  than  forgetting  hungjer  and  weariness,  he  began  to 
inquire  where  the  enemy  who  had  pursued  them  so  long  had 
taken  up  their  abode  for  the  night ;  "  for,"  said  he,  "  as  they 
must  suppose  us  totally  scattered  and  fled,  it  is  likely  that 
they  will  think  themselves  quite  secure,  and  disperse  them- 
selves into  distant  quarters,  and  keep  careless  watch." 

"That  is  very  true,"  answered  James  of  Douglas,  "for  I 
passed  a  village  where  there  are  two  hundred  of  them  quar- 
tered,  who  had  placed  no  sentinels ;  and  if  you  have  a  mind 
to  make  haste,  we  may  surprise  them  this  very  night,  and  do 
them  more  mischief  than  they  have  been  able  to  do  us  during 
all  this  day's  chase." 

Then  there  was  nothing  but  mount  and  ride;  and  as  the 
Scots  came  by  surprise  on  the  body  of  English  whom  Douglas 
had  mentioned,  and  rushed  suddenly  into  the  village  where 
they  were  quartered,  they  easily  dispersed  and  cut  them  to 
pieces ;  thus,  as  Douglas  had  said,  doing  their  pursuers  more 
injury  than  they  themselves  had  received  during  the  long  and 
severe  pursuit  of  the  preceding  day. 

The  consequence  of  these  successes  of  King  Robert  was. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  167 

that  soldiers  came  to  join  him  on  all  sides,  and  that  he 
obtained  several  victories  both  over  Sir  Aymer  de  Valence, 
Lord  Clifford,  and  other  English  commanders :  until  at  length 
the  English  were  afraid  to  venture  into  the  open  country  as 
formerly,  unless  when  they  could  assemble  themselves  in  con- 
siderable bodies.  They  thought  it  safer  to  lie  still  in  the 
towns  and  castles  which  they  had  garrisoned,  and  wait  till  the 
King  of  England  should  once  more  come  to  their  assistance 
with  a  powerful  army. 


THE  EXPLOITS   OF   DOUGLAS   AND   OF  EANDOLPH. 

(1307-1313.) 

When  King  Edward  the  First  heard  that  Scotland  was 
again  in  arms  against  him,  he  marched  down  to  the  Borders, 
as  I  have  already  told  you,  with  many  threats  of  what  he 
would  do  to  avenge  himself  on  Bruce  and  his  party,  whom  he 
called  rebels.  But  he  was  now  old  and  feeble,  and  while 
he  was  making  his  preparations,  he  was  taken  very  ill,  and 
after  lingering  a  long  time,  at  length  died  on  the  sixth  of  July, 
1307,  at  a  place  in  Cumberland  called  Burgh  upon  the  Sands, 
in  full  sight  of  Scotland,  and  not  three  miles  from  its  fron- 
tier. His  hatred  to  that  country  was  so  inveterate,  that  his 
thoughts  of  revenge  seemed  to  occupy  his  mind  on  his  death- 
bed. He  made  his  son  promise  never  to  make  peace  with 
Scotland  until  the  nation  was  subdued.  He  gave  also  very 
singular  directions  concerning  the  disposal  of  his  dead  body. 
He  ordered  that  it  should  be  boiled  in  a  cauldron  till  the  flesh 
parted  from  the  bones,  and  that  then  the  bones  should  be 
wrapped  up  in  a  bull's  hide,  and  carried  at  the  head  of  the 
English  army,  as  often  as  the  Scots  attempted  to  recover  their 
freedom.     He  thought  that  he  had  inflicted  such  distresses  on 


168      TII^  EXPLOITS  OF  LOUGLAS  AnI)  ItANDOLPM. 

the  Scots,  and  invaded  and  defeated  them  so  often,  that  his 
very  dead  bones  would  terrify  them.  His  son,  Edward  the 
Second,  did  not  choose  to  execute  this  strange  injunction,  but 
caused  his  father  to  be  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey,  where 
his   tomb   is   still  to   be    seen,    bearing  for   an   inscription, 

HERE     LIES     THE     HAMMER     OF    THE     SCOTTISH     NATION.       And, 

indeed,  it  was  true,  that  during  his  life  he  did  them  as  much 
injury  as  a  hammer  does  to  the  substances  which  it  dashes  to 
pieces. 

Edward  the  Second  was  neither  so  brave  nor  so  wise  as  his 
father;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  a  weak  prince,  fond  of  idle 
amusements  and  worthless  favorites.  It  was  lucky  for  Scot- 
land that  such  was  his  disposition.  He  marched  a  little  way 
into  Scotland  with  the  large  army  which  Edward  the  First  had 
collected,  but  went  back  again  without  fighting,  which  gave 
great  encouragement  to  Bruce 's  party. 

Several  of  the  Scottish  nobility  now  took  arms  in  different 
parts  of  the  country,  declared  for  King  Robert,  and  fought 
against  the  English  troops  and  garrisons.  The  most  dis- 
tinguished of  these  was  the  Good  Lord  James  of  Douglas, 
whom  we  have  often  mentioned  before.  Some  of  his  most 
memorable  exploits  respected  his  own  Castle  of  Douglas,  in 
which,  being  an  important  fortress  and  strongJy  situated,  the 
English  had  placed  a  large  garrison.  James  of  Douglas  saw, 
with  great  displeasure,  his  castle  filled  with  English  soldiers, 
and  stored  with  great  quantities  of  corn,  and  cattle,  and  wine, 
and  ale,  and  other  supplies  which  they  were  preparing,  to 
enable  them  to  assist  the  English  army  with  provisions.  So 
he  resolved,  if  possible,  to  be  revenged  upon  the  captain  of 
the  garrison  and  his  soldiers. 

For  this  purpose,  Douglas  went  in  disguise  to  the  house  of 
one  of  his  old  servants,  called  Thomas  Dickson,  a  strong, 
faithful,  and  bold  man,   and  laid  a  scheme  for  taking  the 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  169 

castle.  A  holiday  was  approaching,  called  Palm  Sunday. 
Upon  this  day,  it  was  common,  in  the  Boman  Catholic  times, 
that  the  people  went  to  church  in  procession,  with  green 
boughs  in  their  hands.  Just  as  the  English  soldiers,  who 
had  marched  down  from  the  castle,  got  into  church,  one  of 
Lord  James's  followers  raised  the  cry  of  Douglas,  Douglas! 
which  was  the  shout  with  which  that  family  always  began 
battle.  Thomas  Dickson,  and  some  friends  whom  he  had 
collected,  instantly  drew  their  swords,  and  killed  the  first 
Englishman  whom  they  met.  But  as  the  signal  had  been 
given  too  soon,  Dickson  was  borne  down  and  slain.  Douglas 
and  his  men  presently  after  forced  their  way  into  the  church. 
The  English  soldiers  attempted  to  defend  themselves;  but, 
being  taken  by  surprise  and  unprepared,  they  were,  for  the 
greater  part,  killed  or  made  prisoners,  and  that  so  suddenly, 
and  with  so  little  noise,  that  their  companions  in  the  castle 
never  heard  of  it.  So  that  when  Douglas  and  his  men 
approached  the  castle  gate,  they  found  it  open,  and  that 
part  of  the  garrison  which  were  left  at  home,  busied  cooking 
provisions  for  those  that  were  at  church.  So  Lord  James  got 
possession  of  his  own  castle  without  difficulty,  and  he  and  his 
men  eat  up  all  the  good  dinner  which  the  English  had  made 
ready.  But  Douglas  dared  not  stay  there,  lest  the  English 
should  come  in  great  force  and  besiege  him;  and  therefore 
he  resolved  to  destroy  all  the  provisions  which  the  English 
had  stored  up  in  the  castle,  and  to  render  the  place  unavailing 
to  them. 

It  must  be  owned  he  executed  this  purpose  in  a  very  cruel 
and  shocking  manner,  for  he  was  much  enraged  at  the  death 
of  Thomas  Dickson.  He  caused  all  the  barrels  containing 
flour,  meal,  wheat,  and  malt,  to  be  knocked  in  pieces,  and 
their  contents  mixed  on  the  floor;  then  he  staved  the  great 
hogsheads  of  wine  and  ale,  and  mixed  the  liquor  with  the 


170      THE  EXPLOITS   OF  DOUGLAS  AND  RANDOLPH, 

stores ;  and,  last  of  all,  he  killed  his  prisoners,  and  flung  the 
dead  bodies  among  this  disgusting  heap,  which  his  men 
called,  in  derision  of  the  English,  the  Douglas  Larder.  Then 
he  flung  dead  horses  into  the  well  to  destroy  it  —  after  which 
he  set  fire  to  the  castle;  and  finally  marched  away,  and  took 
refuge  with  his  followers  in  the  hills  and  forests.  "  He  loved 
better,"  he  said,  ''to  hear  the  lark  sing  than  the  mouse 
squeak."  That  is,  he  loved  better  to  keep  in  the  open  field 
witli  his  men,  than  to  shut  himself  and  them  up  in  castles. 

When  Clifford,  the  English  general,  heard  what  had  hap- 
pened, he  came  to  Douglas  Castle  with  a  great  body  of  men, 
and  rebuilt  all  the  defences  which  Lord  James  had  destroyed, 
and  cleared  out  the  well,  and  put  a  good  soldier,  named  Thirl- 
wall,  to  command  the  garrison,  and  desired  him  to  be  on  his 
guard,  for  he  suspected  that  Lord  James  would  again  attack 
him.  And,  indeed,  Douglas,  who  did  not  like  to  see  the 
English  in  his  father's  castle,  was  resolved  to  take  the  first 
opportunity  of  destroying  this  garrison,  as  he  had  done  the 
former.  For  this  purpose  he  again  had  recourse  to  stratagem. 
He  laid  a  part  of  his  followers  in  ambush  in  the  wood,  and 
sent  fourteen  men,  disguised  like  countrymen,  driving  cattle 
past  the  gates  of  the  castle.  As  soon  as  Thirlwall  saw  this, 
he  swore  that  he  would  plunder  the  Scots  drovers  of  their 
cattle,  and  came  out  with  a  considerable  part  of  his  garrison, 
for  that  purpose.  He  had  followed  the  cattle  past  the  place 
where  Douglas  was  lying  concealed,  when  all  of  a  sudden  the 
Scotsmen  threw  off  their  carriers'  cloaks,  and  appeared  in 
armor,  cried  the  cry  of  Douglas,  and,  turning  back  suddenly, 
ran  to  meet  the  pursuers ;  and  before  Thirlwall  could  make 
any  defence,  he  heard  the  same  war-cry  behind  him,  and  saw 
Douglas  coming  up  with  those  Scots  who  had  been  lying  in 
ambush.  Thirlwall  himself  was  killed,  fighting  bravely  in 
the  middle  of  his  enemies,  and  only  a  very  few  of  his  men 
found  their  way  back  to  the  castle. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  171 

When  Lord  James  had  thus  slain  two  English  commanders 
or  governors  of  his  castle,  and  was  known  to  have  made  a  vow 
that  he  would  be  revenged  on  any  one  who  should  dare  to  take 
possession  of  his  father's  house,  men  became  afraid ;  and  the 
fortress  was  called,  both  in  England  and  Scotland,  the  Peril- 
ous Castle  of  Douglas,  because  it  proved  so  dangerous  to  any 
Englishman  who  was  stationed  there.  Now,  in  those  warlike 
times.  Master  Little  John,  you  must  know,  that  the  ladies 
would  not  marry  any  man  who  was  not  very  brave  and  val- 
iant, so  that  a  coward,  let  him  be  ever  so  rich  or  high-born, 
was  held  in  universal  contempt.  And  thus  it  became  the 
fashion  for  the  ladies  to  demand  proofs  of  the  courage  of  their 
lovers,  and  for  those  knights  who  desired  to  please  the  ladies, 
to  try  some  extraordinary  deed  of  arms,  to  show  their  bravery 
and  deserve  their  favor. 

At  the  time  we  speak  of,  there  was  a  young  lady  in  Eng- 
land, whom  many  knights  and  noblemen  asked  in  marriage, 
because  she  was  extremely  wealthy,  and  very  beautiful.  Once 
upon  a  holiday  she  made  a  great  feast,  to  which  she  asked  all 
her  lovers,  and  numerous  other  gallant  knights ;  and  after  the 
feast  she  arose,  and  told  them  that  she  was  much  obliged  to 
them  for  their  good  opinion  of  her,  but  as  she  desired  to  have 
for  her  husband  a  man  of  the  most  incontestable  bravery,  she 
had  formed  her  resolution  not  to  marry  any  one,  save  one  who 
should  show  his  courage  by  defending  the  Perilous  Castle  of 
Douglas  against  the  Scots  for  a  year  and  a  day.  Now  this 
made  some  silence  among  the  gentlemen  present ;  for  although 
the  lady  was  rich  and  beautiful,  yet  there  was  great  danger  in 
placing  themselves  within  the  reach  of  the  Good  Lord  James 
of  Douglas.  At  last  a  brave  young  knight  started  up  and  said 
that  for  the  love  of  that  lady  he  was  willing  to  keep  the  Peril- 
ous Castle  for  a  year  and  a  day,  if  the  King  pleased  to  give 
him  leave.      The  King  of  England  was   satisfied,  and  well 


172      THE  EXPLOITS  OF  DOUGLAS  AND  RANDOLPH, 

pleased  to  get  a  brave  man  to  hold  a  place  so  dangerous.  Sir 
John  Wilton  was  the  name  of  this  gallant  knight.  He  kept 
the  castle  very  safely  for  some  time ;  but  Douglas,  at  last,  by 
a  stratagem,^  induced  him  to  venture  out  with  a  part  of  the 
garrison,  and  then  set  upon  them  and  slew  them.  Sir  John 
Wilton  himself  was  killed,  and  a  letter  from  the  lady  was 
found  in  his  pocket.'  Douglas  was  sorry  for  his  unhappy  end, 
and  did  not  put  to  death  any  of  the  prisoners  as  he  had 
formerly  done,  but  dismissed  them  in  safety  to  the  next  Eng- 
lish garrison. 

Other  great  lords,  besides  Douglas,  were  now  exerting 
themselves  to  attack  and  destroy  the  English.  Amongst 
those  was  Sir  Thomas  Kandolph,  whose  mother  was  a  sister 
of  King  Eobert.  He  had  joined  with  the  Bruce  when  he  first 
took  up  arms.  Afterwards  being  made  prisoner  by  the  Eng- 
lish, when  the  King  was  defeated  at  Methven,  as  I  told  you. 
Sir  Thomas  Kandolph  was  obliged  to  join  the  English  to  save 
his  life.  He  remained  so  constant  to  them,  that  he  was  in 
company  with  Aymer  de  Valence  and  John  of  Lorn,  when  they 
forced  the  Bruce  to  disperse  his  little  band;  and  he  followed 
the  pursuit  so  close,  that  he  made  his  uncle's  standard-bearer 
prisoner,  and  took  his  banner.  Afterwards,  however,  he  was 
himself  made  prisoner,  at  a  solitary  house  on  Lyne-water,  by 
the  Good  Lord  James  Douglas,  who  brought  him  captive  to 
the  King.  Eobert  reproached  his  nephew  for  having  deserted 
his  cause;  and  Randolph,  who  was  very  hot-tempered,  an- 
swered insolently,  and  was  sent  by  King  Eobert  to  prison. 
Shortly  after,  the  uncle  and  nephew  were  reconciled,  and  Sir 
Thomas  Randolph,  created  Earl  of  Murray  by  the  King,  was 

*  This  stratagem  was,  in  its  contrivance  and  success,  the  same  as  his  former 
one,  save  that  in  place  of  cattlediiviug.  Sir  James  made  fourteen  of  his  men 
take  so  many  sacks,  and  fill  them  with  grass,  as  if  corn  for  the  county  market- 
town  of  Lamark,  twelve  miles  from  the  Castle  of  Douglas.  See  Introduction 
to  "Castle  Dangerous,"  Waverley  Novels,  Vol.  XLVII. 


H 

K 


TBE  BEAUT  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  173 

ever  afterwards  one  of  Bruce's  best  supporters.  There  was  a 
sort  of  rivalry  between  Douglas  and  him,  which  should  do 
the  boldest  and  most  hazardous  actions.  I  will  just  mention 
one  or  two  circumstances,  which  will  show  you  what  awful 
dangers  were  to  be  encountered  by  these  brave  men,  in  order 
to  free  Scotland  from  its  enemies  and  invaders. 

While  Robert  Bruce  was  gradually  getting  possession  of 
the  country,  and  driving  out  the  English,  Edinburgh,  the 
principal  town  of  Scotland,  remained,  with  its  strong  castle, 
in  possession  of  the  invaders.  Sir  Thomas  Randolph  was 
extremely  desirous  to  gain  this  important  place ;  but,  as  you 
well  know,  the  castle  is  situated  on  a  very  steep  and  lofty 
rock,  so  that  it  is  difficult  or  almost  impossible  even  to  get 
up  to  the  foot  of  the  walls,  much  more  to  climb  over  them. 

So  while  Randolph  was  considering  what  was  to  be  done, 
there  came  to  him  a  Scottish  gentleman  named  Francis,  who 
had  joined  Bruce's  standard,  and  asked  to  speak  with  him  in 
private.  He  then  told  Randolph,  that  in  his  youth  he  had 
lived  in  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  and  that  his  father  had  then 
been  keeper  of  the  fortress.  It  happened  at  that  time  that 
Francis  was  much  in  love  with  a  lady,  who  lived  in  a  part  of 
the  town  beneath  the  castle,  which  is  called  the  Grassmarket. 
Now,  as  he  could  not  get  out  of  the  castle  by  day  to  see  his 
mistress,  he  had  practised  a  way  of  clambering  by  night  down 
the  castle  rock  on  the  south  side,  and  returning  at  his  pleas- 
ure ;  when  he  came  to  the  foot  of  the  wall,  he  made  use  of  a 
ladder  to  get  over  it,  as  it  was  not  very  high  at  that  point, 
those  who  built  it  having  trusted  to  the  steepness  of  the  crag; 
and,  for  the  same  reason,  no  watch  was  placed  there.  Francis 
had  gone  and  come  so  frequently  in  this  dangerous  manner, 
that,  though  it  was  now  long  ago,  he  told  Randolph  he  knew 
the  road  so  well,  that  he  would  undertake  to  guide  a  small 
party  of  men  by  night  to  the  bottom  of  the  wall ;  and  as  they 


174      THE  EXPLOITS   OF  DOUGLAS  AND  liANDOLPH. 

might  bring  ladders  with  t'aem,  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in 
scaling  it.  The  great  risk  was,  that  of  their  being  discovered 
by  the  watchmen  while  in  the  act  of  ascending  the  cliff,  in 
which  case  every  man  of  them  must  have  perished. 

Nevertheless,  Randolph  did  not  hesitate  to  attempt  the 
adventure.  He  took  with  him  only  thirty  men  (you  may  be 
sure  they  were  chosen  for  activity  and  courage),  and  came  one 
dark  night  to  the  foot  of  the  rock,  which  they  began  to  ascend 
under  the  guidance  of  Francis,  who  went  before  them,  upon 
his  hands  and  feet,  up  one  cliff,  down  another,  and  round 
another,  where  there  was  scarce  room  to  support  themselves. 
All  the  while,  these  thirty  men  were  obliged  to  follow  in  a 
line,  one  after  the  other,  by  a  path  that  was  fitter  for  a  cat 
than  a  man.  The  noise  of  a  stone  falling,  or  a  word  spoken 
from  one  to  another,  would  have  alarmed  the  watchmen. 
They  were  obliged,  therefore,  to  move  with  the  greatest  pre- 
caution. When  they  were  far  up  the  crag,  and  near  the 
foundation  of  the  wall,  they  heard  the  guards  going  their 
rounds,  to  see  that  all  was  safe  in  and  about  the  castle. 
Randolph  and  his  party  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  lie  close  and 
quiet,  each  man  under  the  crag,  as  he  happened  to  be  placed, 
and  trust  that  the  guards  would  pass  by  without  noticing 
them.  And  while  they  were  waiting  in  breathless  alarm  they 
got  a  new  cause  of  fright.  One  of  the  soldiers  of  the  castle, 
willing  to  startle  his  comrades,  suddenly  threw  a  stone  from 
the  wall,  and  cried  out,  "Aha,  I  see  you  well!"  The  stone 
came  thundering  down  over  the  heads  of  Randolph  and  his 
men,  who  naturally  thought  themselves  discovered.  If  they 
had  stirred,  or  made  the  slightest  noise,  they  would  have  been 
entirely  destroyed;  for  the  soldiers  above  might  have  killed 
every  man  of  them,  merely  by  rolling  down  stones.  But 
being  courageous  and  chosen  men,  they  remained  quiet,  and 
the  English  soldiers,  who  thought  their  comrade  was  merely 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  175 

playing  them  a  trick  (as,  indeed,  he  had  no  other  meaning  in 
what  he  did  and  said)  passed  on  without  farther  examination. 

Then  Eandolph  and  his  men  got  up  and  came  in  haste  to 
the  foot  of  the  wall,  which  was  not  above  twice  a  man's  height 
in  that  place.  They  planted  the  ladders  they  had  brought, 
and  Francis  mounted  first  to  show  them  the  way;  Sir  Andrew 
Grey,  a  brave  knight,  followed  him,  and  Randolph  himself 
was  the  third  man  who  got  over.  Then  tlie  rest  followed. 
When  once  they  were  within  the  walls,  there  was  not  so  much 
to  do,  for  the  garrison  were  asleep  and  unarmed,  excepting 
the  watch,  who  were  speedily  destroyed.  Thus  was  Edin- 
burgh Castle  taken  in  March,  1312-13. 

It  was  not,  however,  only  by  the  exertions  of  great  and 
powerful  barons,  like  Randolph  and  Douglas,  that  the  free- 
dom of  Scotland  was  to  be  accomplished.  The  stout  yeo- 
manry, and  the  bold  peasantry  of  the  land,  who  were  as 
desirous  to  enjoy  their  cottages  in  honorable  independence  as 
the  nobles  were  to  reclaim  their  castles  and  estates  from  the 
English,  contributed  their  full  share  in  the  efforts  which  were 
made  to  deliver  the  country  from  the  invaders.  I  will  give 
you  one  instance  among  many. 

There  was  a  strong  castle  near  Linlithgow,  or  Lithgow,  as 
the  word  is  more  generally  pronounced,  where  an  English 
governor,  with  a  powerful  garrison,  lay  in  readiness  to  sup- 
port the  English  cause,  and  used  to  exercise  much  severity 
upon  the  Scots  in  the  neighborhood.  There  lived  at  no  great 
distance  from  this  stronghold,  a  farmer,  a  bold  and  stout  man, 
whose  name  was  Binnock,  or,  as  it  is  now  pronounced.  Bin- 
ning. This  man  saw  with  great  joy  the  progress  which  the 
Scots  were  making  in  recovering  their  country  from  the  Eng- 
lish, and  resolved  to  do  something  to  help  his  countrymen,  by 
getting  possession,  if  it  were  possible,  of  the  Castle  of  Lith- 
gow.    But  the  place  was  very  strong,  situated  by  the  side 


176     TEE  EXPLOITS  OF  DOUGLAS  AND  RANDOLPH, 

of  a  lake,  defended  not  only  by  gates,  which  were  usually 
kept  shut  against  strangers,  but  also  by  a  portcullis.  A  port- 
cullis is  a  sort  of  door  formed  of  cross-bars  of  iron,  like 
a  grate.  It  has  not  hinges  like  a  door,  but  is  drawn  up  by 
pulleys,  and  let  down  when  any  danger  approaches.  It  may 
be  let  go  in  a  moment,  and  then  falls  down  into  the  doorway; 
and  as  it  has  great  iron  spikes  at  the  bottom,  it  crushes  all 
that  it  lights  upon;  thus  in  case  of  a  sudden  alarm,  a  port- 
cullis may  be  let  suddenly  fall  to  defend  the  entrance,  when 
it  is  not  possible  to  shut  the  gates.  Binnock  knew  this  very 
well,  but  he  resolved  to  be  provided  against  this  risk  also 
when  he  attempted  to  surprise  the  castle.  So  he  spoke  with" 
some  bold,  courageous  countrymen,  and  engaged  them  in  his 
enterprise,  which  he  accomplished  thus. 

Binnock  had  been  accustomed  to  supply  the  garrison  of 
Linlithgow  with  hay,  and  he  had  been  ordered  by  the  English 
governor  to  furnish  some  cart-loads,  of  which  they  were  in 
want.  He  promised  to  bring  it  accordingly;  but  the  night 
before  he  drove  the  hay  to  the  castle,  he  stationed  a  party 
of  his  friends,  as  well  armed  as  possible,  near  the  entrance, 
where  they  could  not  be  seen  by  the  garrison,  and  gave  them 
directions  that  they  should  come  to  his  assistance  as  soon  as 
they  should  hear  him  cry  a  signal,  which  was  to  be,  —  "  Call 
all,  call  all ! "  Then  he  loaded  a  great  wagon  with  hay.  But 
in  the  wagon  he  placed  eight  strong  men, well  armed,  lying 
flat  on  their  breasts,  and  covered  over  with  hay,  so  that  they 
could  not  be  seen.  He  himself  walked  carelessly  beside  the 
wagon;  and  he  chose  the  stoutest  and  bravest  of  his  servants 
to  be  the  driver,  who  carried  at  his  belt  a  strong  axe  or 
hatchet.  In  this  way  Binnock  approached  the  castle  early  in 
the  morning;  and  the  watchman,  who  only  saw  two  men, 
Binnock  being  one  of  them,  with  a  cart  of  hay,  which  they 
expected,  opened  the  gates  and  raised  up  the  portcullis,  to 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  177 

permit  them  to  enter  the  castle.  But  as  soon  as  the  cart 
had  gotten  under  the  gateway,  Binnock  made  a  sign  to  his 
servant,  who  with  his  axe  suddenly  cut  asunder  the  sonm, 
that  is,  the  yoke  which  fastens  the  horses  to  the  cart,  and 
the  horses  finding  themselves  free,  naturally  started  forward, 
the  cart  remaining  behind.  At  the  same  moment,  Binnock 
cried,  as  loud  as  he  could,  "  Call  all,  call  all !  "  and  drawing 
the  sword,  which  he  had  under  his  country  habit,  he  killed 
the  porter.  The  armed  men  then  jumped  up  from  under  the 
hay  where  they  lay  concealed,  and  rushed  on  the  English 
guard.  The  Englishmen  tried  to  shut  the  gates,  but  they 
could  not,  because  the  cart  of  hay  remained  in  the  gateway, 
and  prevented  the  folding-doors  from  being  closed.  The 
portcullis  was  also  let  fall,  but  the  grating  was  caught  on  the 
cart,  and  so  could  not  drop  to  the  ground.  The  men  who  were 
in  ambush  near  the  gate,  hearing  the  cry,  "Call  all,  call  all," 
ran  to  assist  those  who  had  leaped  out  from  amongst  the 
hay;  the  castle  was  taken,  and  all  the  Englishmen  killed  or 
made  prisoners.  King  Robert  rewarded  Binnock  by  bestow- 
ing on  him  an  estate,  which  his  posterity  long  afterwards 
enjoyed. 

Perhaps  you  may  be  tired,  my  dear  child,  of  such  stories ; 
yet  I  will  tell  you  how  the  great  and  important  Castle  of 
Roxburgh  was  taken  from  the  English,  and  then  we  will  pass 
to  other  subjects. 

You  must  know  Roxburgh  was  then  a  very  large  castle, 
situated  near  where  two  fine  rivers,  the  Tweed  and  the  Teviot, 
join  each  other.  Being  within  five  or  six  miles  of  England, 
the  English  were  extremely  desirous  of  retaining  it,  and  the 
Scots  equally  eager  to  obtain  possession  of  it.  I  will  tell  you 
how  it  was  taken. 

It  was  upon  the  night  of  what  is  called  Shrovetide,  a  holi- 
day which  Roman  Catholics  paid  great  respect  to,  and  solem- 


178     THE  EXPLOITS  OF  DOUGLAS  AND  RANDOLPH. 

nized  with  much  gaiety  and  feasting.  Most  of  the  garrison  of 
Roxburgh  Castle  were  drinking  and  carousing,  but  still  they 
had  set  watches  on  the  battlements  of  the  castle,  in  case  of 
any  sudden  attack ;  for,  as  the  Scots  had  succeeded  in  so  many 
enterprises  of  the  kind,  and  as  Douglas  was  known  to  be  in 
the  neighborhood,  they  conceived  themselves  obliged  to  keep 
a  very  strict  guard. 

An  Englishwoman,  the  wife  of  one  of  the  officers,  was  sit- 
ting on  the  battlements  with  her  child  in  her  arms;  and  look- 
ing out  on  the  fields  below,  she  saw  some  black  objects,  like  a 
herd  of  cattle,  straggling  near  the  foot  of  the  wall,  and 
approaching  the  ditch  or  moat  of  the  castle.  She  pointed 
them  out  to  the  sentinel,  and  asked  him  what  they  were.  — 
"Pooh,  pooh,"  said  the  soldier,  "it  is  farmer  such  a  one's 
cattle  "  (naming  a  man  whose  farm  lay  near  to  the  castle) ; 
"  the  good  man  is  keeping  a  jolly  Shrovetide  and  has  forgot  to 
shut  his  bullocks  in  their  yard;  but  if  the  Douglas  come 
across  them  before  morning,  he  is  likely  to  rue  his  negli- 
gence." Now  these  creeping  objects  which  they  saw  from 
the  castle  wall  were  no  real  cattle,  but  Douglas  himself  and 
his  soldiers,  who  had  put  black  cloaks  above  their  armor,  and 
were  creeping  about  on  hands  and  feet,  in  order,  without  being 
observed,  to  get  so  near  to  the  foot  of  the  castle  wall  as  to  be 
able  to  set  ladders  to  it.  The  poor  woman,  who  knew  nothing 
of  this,  sat  quietly  on  the  wall,  and  began  to  sing  to  her  child. 
You  must  know  that  the  name  of  Douglas  had  become  so  terri- 
ble to  the  English,  that  the  women  used  to  frighten  their  chil- 
dren with  it,  and  say  to  them  when  they  behaved  ill,  that 
they  "would  make  the  Black  Douglas  take  them."  And  this 
soldier's  wife  was  singing  to  her  child, 


'  Hush  ye,  husli  ye,  little  pet  ye, 
Hush  ye,  hush  ye,  do  not  fret  ye, 
The  Black  Douglas  shall  not  get  ye.' 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  179 

"You  are  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  a  voice  close  beside  her. 
She  felt  at  the  same  time  a  heavy  hand,  with  an  iron  glove, 
laid  on  her  shoulder,  and  when  she  looked  round,  she  saw  the 
very  Black  Douglas  she  had  been  singing  about,  standing  close 
beside  her,  a  tall,  swarthy,  strong  man.  At  the  same  time, 
another  Scotsman  was  seen  ascending  the  walls,  near  the 
sentinel.  The  soldier  gave  the  alarm,  and  rushed  at  the 
Scotsman,  whose  name  was  Simon  Ledehouse,  with  his  lance; 
but  Simon  parried  the  stroke,  and  closing  with  the  sentinel, 
struck  him  a  deadly  blow  with  his  dagger.  The  rest  of  the 
Scots  followed  up  to  assist  Douglas  and  Ledehouse,  and  the 
castle  was  taken.  Many  of  the  soldiers  were  put  to  death, 
but  Douglas  protected  the  woman  and  the  child.  I  dare  say 
she  made  no  more  songs  about  the  Black  Douglas. 

While  Douglas,  Randolph,  and  other  true-hearted  patriots, 
were  thus  taking  castles  and  strongholds  from  the  English, 
King  Robert,  who  had  now  a  considerable  army  under  his 
command,  marched  through  the  country,  beating  and  dispers- 
ing such  bodies  of  English  as  he  met  on  his  way.  He  went 
to  the  north  country,  where  he  conquered  the  great  and  power- 
ful family  of  Comyn,  who  retained  strong  ill-will  against  him 
for  having  slain  their  relation,  the  Red  Comyn,  in  the  church 
at  Dumfries.  They  had  joined  the  English  with  all  their 
forces;  but  now,  as  the  Scots  began  to  get  the  upper-hand, 
they  were  very  much  distressed.  Bruce  caused  more  than 
thirty  of  them  to  be  beheaded  in  one  day,  and  the  place  where 
they  are  buried  is  called  "the  Grave  of  the  headless  Comyns." 

Neither  did  Bruce  forget  or  forgive  John  M'Dougal  of  Lorn, 
who  had  defeated  him  at  Dairy,  and  very  nearly  made  him 
prisoner,  or  slain  him,  by  the  hands  of  his  vassals,  the  M' Andros- 
sers,  and  had  afterwards  pursued  him  with  a  bloodhound.  When 
John  of  Lorn  heard  that  Bruce  was  marching  against  him, 
he  hoped  to  defend  himself  by  taking  possession  of  a  very 


180     THE  EXPLOITS  OF  DOUGLAS  AND  ItANDOLPH. 

strong  pass  on  the  side  of  one  of  the  largest  mountains  in 
Scotland,  Cruachen  Ben.  The  ground  was  very  straight, 
having  lofty  rocks  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  deep 
precipices,  sinking  down  on  a  great  lake  called  Lochawe;  so 
that  John  of  Lorn  thought  himself  perfectly  secure,  as  he 
could  not  be  attacked  except  in  front,  and  by  a  very  difficult 
path.  But  King  Eobert,  when  he  saw  how  his.  enemies  were 
posted,  sent  a  party  of  light-armed  archers,  under  command 
of  Douglas,  with  directions  to  go,  by  a  distant  and  difficult 
road,  around  the  northern  side  of  the  hill,  and  thus  to  attack 
the  men  of  Lorn  in  the  rear  as  well  as  in  front;  that  is, 
behind,  as  well  as  before.  He  had  signals  made  when  Doug- 
las arrived  at  the  place  appointed.  The  King  then  advanced 
upon  the  Lorn  men  in  front,  when  they  raised  a  shout  of 
defiance,  and  began  to  shoot  arrows  and  roll  stones  down  the 
path,  with  great  confidence  in  the  security  of  their  own  posi- 
tion. But  when  they  were  attacked  by  the  Douglas  and  his 
archers  in  the  rear,  the  soldiers  of  M'Dougal  lost  courage  and 
fled.  Many  were  slain  among  the  rocks  and  precipices,  and 
many  were  drowned  in  the  lake,  and  the  great  river  which 
runs  out  of  it.  John  of  Lorn  only  escaped  by  means  of  his 
boat,  which  he  had  in  readiness  upon  the  lake.  Thus  King 
Robert  had  full  revenge  upon  him,  and  deprived  him  of  a 
great  part  of  his  territory. 

The  English  now  possessed  scarcely  any  place  of  importance 
in  Scotland,  excepting  Stirling,  which  was  besieged,  or  rather 
blockaded,  by  Edward  Bruce,  the  King's  brother.  To  block- 
ade a  town  or  castle,  is  to  quarter  an  army  around  it,  so  as  to 
prevent  those  within  from  getting  provisions.  This  was  done 
by  the  Scots  before  Stirling,  till  Sir  Philip  Mowbray,  who 
commanded  the  castle,  finding  that  he  was  like  to  be  reduced 
to  extremity  for  want  of  provisions,  made  an  agreement  with 
Edward  Bruce  that  he  would  surrender  the  place,  provided  ho 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  181 

were  not  relieved  by  the  King  of  England  before  midsummer. 
Sir  Edward  agreed  to  these  terms,  and  allowed  Mowbray  to  go 
to  London,  to  tell  King  Edward  of  the  conditions  he  had  made. 
But  when  King  Eobert  heard  what  his  brother  had  done,  he 
thought  it  was  too  great  a  risk,  since  it  obliged  him  to  venture 
a  battle  with  the  full  strength  of  Edward  the  Second,  who 
had  under  him  England,  Ireland,  Wales,  and  great  part  of 
France,  and  could  within  the  time  allowed  assemble  a  much 
more  powerful  army  than  the  Scots  could,  even  if  all  Scotland 
were  fully  under  the  King's  authority.  Sir  Edward  answered 
his  brcfther  with  his  naturally  audacious  spirit,  "  Let  Edward 
bring  every  man  he  has,  we  will  fight  them,  were  they  more." 
The  King  admired  his  courage,  though  it  was  mingled  with 
rashness.  —  "  Since  it  is  so,  brother,"  he  said,  "  we  will  man- 
fully abide  battle,  and  assemble  all  who  love  us,  and  value  the 
freedom  of  Scotland,  to  come  with  all  the  men  they  have,  and 
help  us  to  oppose  King  Edward,  should  he  come  with  his  army 
to  rescue  Stirling." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BANNOCKBURN. 

(1314.) 

King  Edward  the  Second,  as  we  have  already  said,  was 
not  a  wise  and  brave  man  like  his  father,  but  a  foolish  prince, 
who  was  influenced  by  unworthy  favorites,  and  thought  more  of 
pleasure  than  of  governing  his  kingdom.  His  father  Edward 
the  First  would  have  entered  Scotland  at  the  head  of  a  large 
army,  before  he  had  left  Bruce  time  to  conquer  back  so  much 
of  the  country.  But  we  have  seen,  that,  very  fortunately  for 
the  Scots,  that  wise  and  skilful,  though  ambitious  King,  died 
when  he  was  on  the  point  of  marching  into  Scotland.  His 
son  Edward  had  afterwards  neglected  the  Scottish  war,  and 


182  THE  BATTLE  OF  BANNOCKBUBN. 

thus  lost  the  opportunity  of  defeating  Bruce,  when  his  force 
was  small.  But  now  when  Sir  Philip  Mowbray,  the  governor 
of  Stirling,  came  to  London,  to  tell  the  King,  that  Stirling, 
the  last  Scottish  town  of  importance  which  remained  in 
possession  of  the  English,  was  to  be  surrendered  if  it  were  not 
relieved  by  force  of  arms  before  midsummer,  then  all  the 
English  nobles  called  out,  it  would  be  a  sin  and  shame  to  per- 
mit the  fair  conquest  which  Edward  the  First  had  made,  to  be 
forfeited  to  the  Scots  for  want  of  fighting.  It  was,  therefore, 
resolved,  that  the  King  should  go  himself  to  Scotland,  with  as 
great  forces  as  he  could  possibly  muster. 

King  Edward  the  Second,  therefore,  assembled  one  of  the 
greatest  armies  which  a  King  of  England  ever  commanded. 
There  were  troops  brought  from  all  his  dominions.  Many 
brave  soldiers  from  the  French  provinces  which  the  King  of 
England  possessed  in  France  —  many  Irish,  many  Welsh  —  and 
all  the  great  English  nobles  and  barons,  with  their  followers, 
were  assembled  in  one  great  army.  The  number  was  not  less 
than  one  hundred  thousand  men. 

King  E/obert  the  Bruce  summoned  all  his  nobles  and  barons 
to  join  him,  when  he  heard  of  the  great  preparations  which 
the  King  of  England  was  making.  They  were  not  so  numer- 
ous as  the  English  by  many  thousand  men.  In  fact,  his 
whole  army  did  not  very  much  exceed  thirty  thousand,  and 
they  were  much  worse  armed  than  the  wealthy  Englishmen; 
but  then,  Kobert,  who  was  at  their  head,  was  one  of  the  most 
expert  generals  of  the  time;  and  the  officers  he  had  under 
him,  were  his  brother  Edward,  his  nephew  Kandolph,  his 
faithful  follower  the  Douglas,  and  other  brave  and  experi- 
enced leaders,  who  commanded  the  same  men  that  had  been 
accustomed  to  fight  and  gain  victories  under  every  disadvan- 
tage of  situation  and  numbers. 

The  King,  on  his  part,  studied  how  he  might  supply,  by 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  183 

address  and  stratagem,  what  he  wanted  in  numbers  and 
strength.  He  knew  the  superiority  of  the  English,  both  in 
their  heavy-armed  cavalry,  which  were  much  better  mounted 
and  armed  than  that  of  the  Scots,  and  in  their  archers,  who 
were  better  trained  than  any  others  in  the  world.  Both  these 
advantages  he  resolved  to  provide  against.  With  this  pur- 
pose, he  led  his  army  down  into  a  plain  near  Stirling,  called 
the  Park,  near  which,  and  beneath  it,  the  English  army  must 
needs  pass  through  a  boggy  country,  broken  with  water- 
courses, while  the  Scots  occupied  hard  dry  ground.  He  then 
caused  all  the  ground  upon  the  front  of  his  line  of  battle, 
where  cavalry  were  likely  to  act,  to  be  dug  full  of  holes,  about 
as  deep  as  a  man's  knee.  They  were  filled  with  light  brush- 
wood, and  the  turf  was  laid  on  the  top,  so  that  it  appeared  a 
plain  field,  while  in  reality  it  was  all  full  of  these  pits  as  a 
honeycomb  is  of  holes.  He  also,  it  is  said,  caused  steel 
spikes,  called  calthrops,  to  be  scattered  up  and  down  in  the 
plain,  where  the  English  cavalry  were  most  likely  to  advance, 
trusting  in  that  manner  to  lame  and  destroy  their  horses. 

When  the  Scottish  army  was  drawn  up,  the  line  stretched 
north  and  south.  On  the  south,  it  was  terminated  by  the 
banks  of  the  brook  called  Bannockburn,  which  are  so  rocky, 
that  no  troops  could  attack  them  there.  On  the  left^  the 
Scottish  line  extended  near  to  the  town  of  Stirling.  Bruce 
reviewed  his  troops  very  carefully;  all  the  useless  servants, 
drivers  of  carts,  and  such  like,  of  whom  there  were  very 
many,  he  ordered  to  go  behind  a  height,  afterwards,  in 
memory  of  the  event,  called  the  Gillies'  hill,  that  is,  the  Ser- 
vants' hill.  He  then  spoke  to  the  soldiers,  and  expressed  his 
determination  to  gain  the  victory,  or  to  lose  his  life  on  the 
field  of  battle.  He  desired  that  all  those  who  did  not  pro- 
pose to  fight  to  the  last,  should  leave  the  field  before  the  bat- 
tle began,  and  that  none  should  remain  except  those  who  were 


184  THE  BATTLE  OF  BANNOCEBURN. 

determined  to  take  the  issue  of  victory  or  death,  as  God 
should  send  it. 

When  the  main  body  of  his  army  was  thus  placed  in  order, 
the  King  posted  Eandolph,  with  a  body  of  horse,  near  to  the 
Church  of  St.  Ninian's,  commanding  him  to  use  the  utmost 
diligence  to  prevent  any  succors  from  being  thrown  into  Stir- 
ling Castle.  He  then  dispatched  James  of  Douglas,  and  Sir 
Kobert  Keith,  the  Mareschal  of  the  Scottish  army,  in  order 
that  they  might  survey,  as  nearly  as  they  could,  the  English 
force,  which  was  now  approaching  from  Falkirk.  They 
returned  with  information,  that  the  approach  of  that  vast  host 
was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  terrible  sights  which  could 
be  seen  —  that  the  whole  country  seemed  covered  with  men- 
at-arms  on  horse  and  foot  —  that  the  number  of  standards, 
banners,  and  pennons  (all  flags  of  different  kinds)  made  so 
gallant  a  show,  that  the  bravest  and  most  numerous  host  in 
Christendom  might  be  alarmed  to  see  King  Edward  moving 
against  them. 

It  was  upon  the  twenty-third  of  June  (1314)  the  King  of 
Scotland  heard  the  news,  that  the  English  army  were  approach- 
ing Stirling.  He  drew  out  his  army,  therefore,  in  the  order 
which  he  had  before  resolved  on.  After  a  short  time,  Bruce, 
who  was  looking  out  anxiously  for  the  enemy,  saw  a  body  of 
English  cavalry  trying  to  get  into  Stirling  from  the  eastward. 
This  was  the  Lord  Clifford,  who,  with  a  chosen  body  of  eight 
hundred  horse,  had  been  detached  to  relieve  the  castle. 

"See,  Eandolph,"  said  the  King  to  his  nephew,  "there  is  a 
rose  fallen  from  your  chaplet."  By  this  he  meant,  that  Ran- 
dolph had  lost  some  honor,  by  suffering  the  enemy  to  pass 
where  he  had  been  stationed  to  hinder  them.  Randolph  made 
no  reply,  but  rushed  against  Clifford  with  little  more  than 
half  his  number.  The  Scots  were  on  foot.  The  English 
turned  to  charge  them  with  their  lances,  and  Randolph  drew 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  185 

up  his  men  in  close  order  to  receive  the  onset.  He  seemed  to 
be  in  so  much  danger,  that  Douglas  asked  leave  of  the  King 
to  go  and  assist  him.     The  King  refused  him  permission. 

"Let  Randolph,"  he  said,  "redeem  his  own  fault;  I  cannot 
break  the  order  of  battle  for  his  sake."  Still  the  danger 
appeared  greater,  and  the  English  horse  seemed  entirely  to 
encompass  the  small  handful  of  Scottish  infantry.  "So 
please  you,"  said  Douglas  to  the  King,  "my  heart  will  not 
suffer  me  to  stand  idle  and  see  Randolph  perish  —  I  must  go 
to  his  assistance."  He  rode  off  accordingly;  but  long  before 
they  had  reached  the  place  of  combat,  they  saw  the  English 
horses  galloping  off,  many  with  empty  saddles. 

"Halt!"  said  Douglas  to  his  men,  "Randolph  has  gained 
the  day;  since  we  were  not  soon  enough  to  help  him  in  the 
battle,  do  not  let  us  lessen  his  glory  by  approaching  the  field." 
Now,  that  was  nobly  done;  especially  as  Douglas  and  Ran- 
dolph were  always  contending  which  should  rise  highest  in 
the  good  opinion  of  the  King  and  the  nation. 

The  van  of  the  English  army  now  came  in  sight,  and  a 
number  of  their  bravest  knights  drew  near  to  see  what  the 
Scots  were  doing.  They  saw  King  Robert  dressed  in  his 
armor,  and  distinguished  by  a  gold  crown,  which  he  wore  over 
his  helmet.  He  was  not  mounted  on  his  great  war-horse, 
because  he  did  not  expect  to  fight  that  evening.  But  he  rode 
on  a  little  pony  up  and  down  the  ranks  of  his  army,  putting 
his  men  in  order,  and  carried  in  his  hand  a  sort  of  battle-axe 
made  of  steel.  When  the  King  saw  the  English  horsemen 
draw  near,  he  advanced  a  little  before  his  own  men,  that  he 
might  look  at  them  more  nearly. 

There  was  a  knight  among  the  English,  called  Sir  Henry  de 
Bohun,  who  thought  this  would  be  a  good  opportunity  to  gain 
great  fame  to  himself,  and  put  an  end  to  the  war,  by  killing 
King  Robert.     The  King  being  poorly  mounted,  and  having 


186  THE  BATTLE  OF  BANNOCKBUBN, 

no  lance,  Bohun  galloped  on  him  suddenly  and  furiously, 
thinking,  with  his  long  spear,  and  his  tall  powerful  horse, 
easily  to  bear  him  down  to  the  ground.  King  Eobert  saw 
him,  and  permitted  him  to  come  very  near,  then  suddenly 
turned  his  pony  a  little  to  one  side,  so  that  Sir  Henry  missed 
him  with  the  lance-point,  and  was  in  the  act  of  being  carried 
past  him  by  the  career  of  his  horse.  But  as  he  passed.  King 
Eobert  rose  up  in  his  stirrups,  and  struck  Sir  Henry  on  the 
head  with  his  battle-axe  so  terrible  a  blow,  that  it  broke  to 
pieces  his  iron  helmet  as  if  it  had  been  a  nut- shell,  and  hurled 
him  from  his  saddle.  He  was  dead  before  he  reached  the 
ground.  This  gallant  action  was  blamed  by  the  Scottish 
leaders,  who  thought  Bruce  ought  not  to  have  exposed  him- 
self to  so  much  danger,  when  the  safety  of  the  whole  army 
depended  on  him.  The  King  only  kept  looking  at  his  weapon, 
which  was  injured  by  the  force  of  the  blow,  and  said,  "  I  have 
broken  my  good  battle-axe." 

The  next  morning,  being  the  twenty -fourth  of  June,  at  break 
of  day,  the  battle  began  in  terrible  earnest.  The  English  as 
they  advanced  saw  the  Scots  getting  into  line.  •  The  Abbot  of 
Inchaffray  walked  through  their  ranks  bare-footed,  and  ex- 
horted them  to  fight  for  their  freedom.  They  kneeled  down 
as  he  passed,  and  prayed  to  Heaven  for  victory.  King 
Edward,  who  saw  this,  called  out,  "  They  kneel  down  —  they 
are  asking  forgiveness."  "Yes,"  said  a  celebrated  English 
baron,  called  Ingelram  de  Umphraville,  "  but  they  ask  it  from 
God,  not  from  us  —  these  men  will  conquer,  or  die  upon  the 
field." 

The  English  King  ordered  his  men  to  begin  the  battle.  The 
archers  then  bent  their  bows,  and  began  to  shoot  so  closely 
together,  that  the  arrows  fell  like  flakes  of  snow  on  a  Christ- 
mas day.  They  killed  many  of  the  Scots,  and  might,  as  at 
Falkirk,    and  other   places,    have   decided  the  victory;  but 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  187 

Bruce,  as  I  told  you  before,  was  prepared  for  them.  He  had 
in  readiness  a  body  of  men-at-arms,  well  mounted,  who  rode  at 
full  gallop  among  the  archers,  and  as  they  had  no  weapons 
save  their  bows  and  arrows,  which  they  could  not  use  when 
they  were  attacked  hand  to  hand,  they  were  cut  down  in  great 
numbers  by  the  Scottish  horsemen,  and  thrown  into  total 
confusion. 

The  fine  English  cavalry  then  advanced  to  support  their 
archers,  and  to  attack  the  Scottish  line.  But  coming  over  the 
ground  which  was  dug  full  of  pits,  the  horses  fell  into  these 
holes,  and  the  riders  lay  tumbling  about,  without  any  means 
of  defence,  and  unable  to  rise,  from  the  weight  of  their  armor. 
The  Englishmen  began  to  fall  into  general  disorder;  and  the 
Scottish  King,  bringing  up  more  of  his  forces,  attacked  and 
pressed  them  still  more  closely. 

On  a  sudden,  while  the  battle  was  obstinately  maintained 
on  both  sides,  an  event  happened  which  decided  the  victory. 
The  servants  and  attendants  on  the  Scottish  camp  had,  as  I 
told  you,  been  sent  behind  the  army  to  a  place  afterwards 
called  the  Gillies'  hill.  But  when  they  saw  that  their  mas- 
ters were  likely  to  gain  the  day,  they  rushed  from  their  place 
of  concealment  with  such  weapons  as  they  could  get,  that  they 
might  have  their  share  in  the  victory  and  in  the  spoil.  The 
English,  seeing  them  come  suddenly  over  the  hill,  mistook 
this  disorderly  rabble  for  a  new  army  coming  up  to  sustain 
the  Scots,  and,  losing  all  heart,  began  to  shift  every  man  for 
himself.  Edward  himself  left  the  field  as  fast  as  he  could 
ride.  A  valiant  knight.  Sir  Giles  de  Argentine,  much  re- 
nowned in  the  wars  of  Palestine,  attended  the  King  till  he 
got  him  out  of  the  press  of  the  combat.  But  he  would  retreat 
no  farther.  "It  is  not  my  custom,"  he  said,  "to  fly." 
With  that  he  took  leave  of  the  King,  set  spurs  to  his  horse, 
and  calling  out  his   war-cry  of   Argentine!    Argentine!  he 


188  THE  BATTLE  OF  BANNOCKBURN. 

rushed    into    the    thickest   of   the   Scottish  ranks,  and  was 
killed. 

The  young  Earl  of  Gloucester  was  also  slain,  fighting  val- 
iantly. The  Scots  would  have  saved  him,  but  as  he  had  not 
put  on  his  armorial  bearings,  they  did  not  know  him,  and  he 
was  cut  to  pieces. 

Edward  first  fled  to  Stirling  Castle,  and  entreated  admit- 
tance; but  Sir  Philip  Mowbray,  the  governor,  reminded  the 
fugitive  Sovereign  that  he  was  obliged  to  surrender  the  castle 
next  day,  so  Edward  was  fain  to  fly  through  the  Torwood, 
closely  pursued  by  Douglas  with  a  body  of  cavalry.  An  odd 
circumstance  happened  during  the  chase,  which  showed  how 
loosely  some  of  the  Scottish  barons  of  that  day  held  their 
political  opinions:  As  Douglas  was  riding  furiously  after 
Edward,  he  met  a  Scottish  knight.  Sir  Laurence  Abernethy, 
with  twenty  horse.  Sir  Laurence  had  hitherto  owned  the 
English  interest,  and  was  bringing  this  band  of  followers  to 
serve  King  Edward's  army.  But  learning  from  Douglas  that 
the  English  King  was  entirely  defeated,  he  changed  sides  on 
the  spot,  and  was  easily  prevailed  upon  to  join  Douglas  in 
pursuing  the  unfortunate  Edward,  with  the  very  followers 
whom  he  had  been  leading  to  join  his  standard. 

Douglas  and  Abernethy  continued  the  chase,  not  giving 
King  Edward  time  to  alight  from  horseback  even  for  an 
instant,  and  followed  him  as  far  as  Dunbai,  where  the  Eng- 
lish had  still  a  friend,  in  the  governor,  Patrick  Earl  of  March. 
The  Earl  received  Edward  in  his  forlorn  condition,  and  fur- 
nished him  with  a  fishing  skiff,  or  small  ship,  in  which  he 
escaped  to  England,  having  entirely  lost  his  fine  army,  and  a 
great  number  of  his  bravest  nobles. 

The  English  never  before  or  afterwards,  whether  in  France 
or  Scotland,  lost  so  dreadful  a  battle  as  that  of  Bannockburn, 
nor  did  the  Scots  ever  gain  one  of  the  same  importance. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  189 

Many  of  the  best  and  bravest  of  the  English  nobility  and 
gentry,  as  I  have  said,  lay  dead  on  the  field;  a  great  many 
more  were  made  prisoners;  and  the  whole  of  King  Edward's 
immense  army  was  dispersed  or  destroyed.® 

The  English,  after  this  great  defeat,  were  no  longer  in  a 
condition  to  support  their  pretensions  to  be  masters  of  Scot- 
land, or  to  continue,  as  they  had  done  for  nearly  twenty  years, 
to  send  armies  into  that  country  to  overcome  it.  On  the  con- 
trary, they  became  for  a  time  scarce  able  to  defend  their  own 
frontiers  against  King  Robert  and  his  soldiers. 

There  were  several  battles  fought  within  England  itself,  in 
which  the  English  had  greatly  the  worst.  One  of  these  took 
place  near  Mitton,  in  Yorkshire.  So  many  priests  took  part 
in  the  fight,  that  the  Scots  called  it  the  Chapter  of  Mitton, 
—  a  meeting  of  the  clergymen  belonging  to  a  cathedral  being 
called  a  Chapter.  There  was  a  great  slaughter  in  and  after 
the  action.  The  Scots  laid  waste  the  country  of  England  as 
far  as  the  gates  of  York,  and  enjoyed  a  considerable  superior- 
ity over  their  ancient  enemies,  who  had  so  lately  threatened  to 
make  them  subjects  of  England. 

Thus  did  Robert  Bruce  arise  from  the  condition  of  an  exile, 
hunted  with  bloodhounds  like  a  stag  or  beast  of  prey,  to  the 

6  "  Multitudes  of  the  English  were  drowned  when  attempting  to  cross  the 
river  Forth.  Many,  in  their  flight,  fell  into  the  pits,  which  they  seem  to 
have  avoided  in  their  first  attack,  and  were  there  suffocated  or  slain  ;  others, 
who  vainly  endeavored  to  pass  the  rugged  banks  of  the  stream  called  Bannock- 
burn,  were  slain  in  that  quarter ;  so  that  this  little  river  was  so  completely 
heaped  up  with  the  dead  bodies  of  men  and  horses,  that  men  might  pass  dry 
over  the  mass  as  if  it  were  a  bridge.  Thirty  thousand  of  the  English  were 
left  dead  upon  the  field ;  and  amongst  these  two  hundred  belted  knights,  and 
seven  hundred  esquires.  A  large  body  of  Welsh  fled  from  the  field,  under  the 
command  of  Sir  Maurice  Berkclay,  but  the  greater  part  of  them  were  slain,  or 
taken  prisoners,  before  they  reached  England.  Such,  also,  might  have  been 
the  fate  of  the  King  of  England  himself,  had  Bruce  been  able  to  spare  a  suffi- 
cient body  of  cavalry  to  follow  up  the  fight."  ...  "  The  loss  of  the  Scots  in 
the  battle  was  incredibly  small,  and  proves  how  effectually  the  Scottish  squires 
had  repelled  the  English  cavalry."  —Tytler's  "History  oi  Scotland." 


190  THE  EXPLOITS  OF  EDWABD  BRUCE. 

rank  of  an  independent  sovereign,  universally  acknowledged 
to  be  one  of  the  wisest  and  bravest  kings  who  then  lived. 
The  nation  of  Scotland  was  also  raised  once  more  from  the 
situation  of  a  distressed  and  conquered  province  to  that  of  a 
free  and  independent  state,  governed  by  its  own  laws,  and 
subject  to  its  own  princes;  and  although  the  country  was, 
after  the  Bruce' s  death,  often  subjected  to  great  loss  and  dis- 
tress, both  by  the  hostility  of  the  English,  and  by  the  un- 
happy civil  wars  among  the  Scots  themselves,  yet  they  never 
afterwards  lost  the  freedom  for  which  Wallace  had  laid  down 
his  life,  and  which  King  Robert  had  recovered,  not  less  by 
his  wisdom  than  by  his  weapons.  And  therefore  most  just  it 
is,  that  while  the  country  of  Scotland  retains  any  recollection 
of  its  history,  the  memory  of  those  brave  warriors  and  faith- 
ful patriots  should  be  remembered  with  honor  and  gratitude. 


CONCERNING  THE  EXPLOITS  OF  EDWARD  BRUCE,  THE 
DOUGLAS,  RANDOLPH,  EARL  OF  MURRAY,  AND  THE 
DEATH  OF  ROBERT  BRUCE. 

(1315-1330.) 

You  will  naturally  be  curious  to  hear  what  became  of 
Edward,  the  brother  of  Robert  Bruce,  who  was  so  courageous, 
and  at  the  same  time  so  rash.  You  must  know  that  the 
Irish,  at  that  time,  had  been  almost  fully  conquered  by  the 
English;  but  becoming  weary  of  them,  the  Irish  chiefs,  or  at 
least  a  great  many  of  them,  invited  Edward  Bruce  to  come 
over,  drive  out  the  English,  and  become  their  king.  He  was 
willing  enough  to  go,  for  he  had  always  a  high  courageous 
spirit,  and  desired  to  obtain  fame  and  dominion  by  fighting. 
Edward  Bruce  was  as  good  a  soldier  as  his  brother,  but  not  so 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  191 

prudent  and  cautious ;  for,  except  in  the  affair  of  killing  the 
Eed  Comyn,  which  was  a  wicked  and  violent  action,  Kobert 
Bruce,  in  his  latter  days,  showed  himself  as  wise  as  he  was 
courageous.  However,  he  was  well  contented  that  his  brother 
Edward,  who  had  always  fought  so  bravely  for  him,  should  be 
raised  up  to  be  King  of  Ireland.  Therefore  King  Eobert  not 
only  gave  him  an  army  to  assist  in  making  the  conquest,  but 
passed  over  the  sea  to  Ireland  himself  in  person,  with  a  con- 
siderable body  of  troops  to  assist  him.  The  Bruces  gained 
several  battles,  and  penetrated  far  into  Ireland ;  but  the  Eng- 
lish forces  were  too  numerous,  and  so  many  of  the  Irish  joined 
with  them  rather  than  with  Edward  Bruce,  that  King  Eobert 
and  his  brother  were  obliged  to  retreat  before  them. 

The  chief  commander  of  the  English  was  a  great  soldier, 
called  Sir  Edmund  Butler,  and  he  had  assembled  a  much 
greater  army  than  Edward  Bruce  and  his  brother  King  Eobert 
had  to  oppose  him.  The  Scots  were  obliged  to  retreat  every 
morning,  that  they  might  not  be  forced  to  battle  by  an  army 
more  numerous  than  their  own. 

I  have  often  told  you,  that  King  Eobert  the  Bruce  was  a 
wise  and  a  good  prince.  But  a  circumstance  happened  during 
this  retreat,  which  showed  he  was  also  a  kind  and  humane 
man.  It  was  one  morning,  when  the  English,  and  their  Irish 
auxiliaries,  were  pressing  hard  upon  Bruce,  who  had  given  his 
army  orders  to  continue  a  hasty  retreat ;  for  to  have  risked  a 
battle  with  a  much  more  numerous  army,  and  in  the  midst  of 
a  country  which  favored  his  enemies,  would  have  been  ex- 
tremely imprudent.  On  a  sudden,  just  as  King  Eobert  was 
about  to  mount  his  horse,  he  heard  a  woman  shrieking  in 
despair.  "What  is  the  matter?"  said  the  King;  and  he  was 
informed  by  his  attendants,  that  a  poor  woman,  a  laundress, 
or  washerwoman,  mother  of  an  infant  who  had  just  been  born, 
was  about  to  be  left  behind  the  army,  as  being  too  weak  to 


192  THE  EXPLOITS  OF  EDWARD  BRUCE. 

travel.  The  mother  was  shrieking  for  fear  of  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  Irish,  who  were  accounted  very  cruel,  and 
there  were  no  carriages  nor  means  of  sending  the  woman  and 
her  infant  on  in  safety.  They  must  needs  be  abandoned  if 
the  army  retreated. 

King  Robert  was  silent  for  a  moment  when  he  heard  this 
story,  being  divided  betwixt  the  feelings  of  humanity,  occa- 
sioned by  the  poor  woman's  distress,  and  the  danger  to  which 
a  halt  would  expose  his  army.  At  last  he  looked  round  on 
his  officers,  with  eyes  which  kindled  like  fire.  "Ah,  gentle- 
men, "  he  said,  "  never  let  it  be  said  that  a  man  who  was  born 
of  a  woman,  and  nursed  by  a  woman's  tenderness,  should 
leave  a  mother  and  an  infant  to  the  mercy  of  barbarians !  In 
the  name  of  God,  let  the  odds  and  the  risk  be  what  they  will, 
I  will  fight  Edmund  Butler  rather  than  leave  these  poor  creat- 
ures behind  me.  Let  the  army,  therefore,  draw  up  in  line  of 
battle,  instead  of  retreating." 

The  story  had  a  singular  conclusion;  for  the  English  gen- 
eral, seeing  that  Eobert  the  Bruce  halted  and  offered  him 
battle,  and  knowing  that  the  Scottish  king  was  one  of  the  best 
generals  then  living,  conceived  that  he  must  have  received 
some  large  supply  of  forces,  and  was  afraid  to  attack  him. 
And  thus  Bruce  had  an  opportunity  to  send  off  the  poor 
woman  and  her  child,  and  then  to  retreat  at  his  leisure,  with- 
out suffering  any  inconvenience  from  the  halt. 

But  Robert  was  obliged  to  leave  the  conquest  of  Ireland  to 
his  brother  Edward,  being  recalled  by  pressing  affairs  to  his 
own  country.  Edward,  who  was  rash  as  he  was  brave,  en- 
gaged, against  the  advice  of  his  best  officers,  in  battle  with  an 
English  general,  called  Sir  Piers  de  Birmingham.  The  Scots 
were  surrounded  on  all  sides,  but  continued  to  defend  them- 
selves valiantly,  and  Edward  Bruce  showed  the  example  by 
fighting  in  the  very  front  of  the  battle.     At  length  a  strong 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  193 

English  Champion,  called  John  Maupas,  engaged  Edward  hand 
to  hand ;  and  they  fought  till  they  killed  each  other.  Maupas 
was  found  lying  after  the  battle  upon  the  body  of  Bruce ;  both 
were  dead  men.  After  Edward  Bruce 's  death,  the  Scots  gave 
up  further  attempts  to  conquer  Ireland. 

Eobert  Bruce  continued  to  reign  gloriously  for  several 
years,  and  was  so  constantly  victorious  over  the  English,  that 
the  Scots  seemed  during  his  government  to  have  acquired  a 
complete  superiority  over  their  neighbors.  But  then  we  must 
remember,  that  Edward  the  Second,  who  then  reigned  in  Eng- 
land, was  a  foolish  prince,  and  listened  to  bad  counsels;  so  that 
it  is  no  wonder  that  he  was  beaten  by  so  wise  and  experienced 
a  general  as  Eobert  Bruce,  who  had  fought  his  way  to  the 
crown  through  so  many  disasters,  and  acquired  in  conse- 
quence so  much  renown,  that,  as  I  have  often  said,  he  was 
generally  accounted  one  of  the  best  soldiers  and  wisest  sover- 
eigns of  his  time. 

In  the  last  year  of  Eobert  the  Bruce 's  reign,  he  became 
extremely  sickly  and  infirm,  chiefly  owing  to  a  disorder  called 
the  leprosy,  which  he  had  caught  during  the  hardships  and 
misfortunes  of  his  youth,  when  he  was  so  frequently  obliged 
to  hide  himself  in  woods  and  morasses,  without  a  roof  to 
shelter  him.  He  lived  at  a  castle  called  Cardross,  on  the 
beautiful  banks  of  the  river  Clyde,  near  to  where  it  joins  the 
sea;  and  his  chief  amusement  was  to  go  upon  the  river,  and 
down  to  the  sea  in  a  ship,  which  he  kept  for  his  pleasure.  He 
was  no  longer  able  to  sit  upon  his  war-horse,  or  to  lead  his 
army  to  the  field. 

While  Bruce  was  in  this  feeble  state,  Edward  the  Second, 
King  of  England,  died,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Edward  the 
Third.  He  turned  out  afterwards  to  be  one  of  the  wisest  and 
bravest  kings  whom  England  ever  had;  but  when  he  first 
mounted  the  throne  he  was  very  young,  and  under  the  entire 


194      THE  EXPLOITS   OF  DOUGLAS  AND  RANDOLPH. 

management  of  his  mother,  who  governed  by  means  of  a 
wicked  favorite  called  Mortimer. 

The  war  between  the  English  and  the  Scots  still  lasting  at 
the  time,  Bruce  sent  his  two  great  commanders,  the  Good 
Lord  James  Douglas,  and  Thomas  Randolph,  Earl  of  Murray, 
to  lay  waste  the  counties  of  Northumberland  and  Durham, 
and  distress  the  English  as  much  as  they  could. 

Their  soldiers  were  about  twenty  thousand  in  number,  all 
lightly  armed,  and  mounted  on  horses  that  were  but  small  in 
height,  but  excessively  active.  The  men  themselves  carried 
no  provision,  except  a  bag  of  oatmeal ;  and  each  had  at  his 
saddle  a  small  plate  of  iron  called  a  girdle,  on  which,  when 
they  pleased,  they  could  bake  the  oatmeal  into  cakes.  They 
killed  the  cattle  of  the  English,  as  they  travelled  through  the 
country,  roasted  the  flesh  on  wooden  spits,  or  boiled  it  in  the 
skins  of  the  animals  themselves,  putting  in  a  little  water  with 
the  beef,  to  prevent  the  fire  from  burning  the  hide  to  pieces. 
This  was  rough  cookery.  They  made  their  shoes,  or  rather 
sandals,  in  as  coarse  a  way ;  cutting  them  out  of  the  raw  hides 
of  the  cattle,  and  fitting  them  to  their  ankles,  like  what  are 
now  called  short  gaiters.  As  this  sort  of  buskin  had  the 
hairy  side  of  the  hide  outermost,  the  English  called  those 
who  wore  them  rough-footed  Scots,  and  sometimes,  from  the 
color  of  the  hide,  red-shanks. 

As  such  forces  needed  to  carry  nothing  with  them,  either 
for  provisions  or  ammunition,  the  Scots  moved  with  amazing 
speed,  from  mountain  to  mountain,  and  from  glen  to  glen, 
pillaging  and  destroying  the  country  wheresoever  they  came. 
In  the  meanwhile,  the  young  King  of  England  pursued  them 
with  a  much  larger  army;  but,  as  it  was  encumbered  by  the 
necessity  of  carrying  provisions  in  great  quantities,  and  by 
the  slow  motions  of  men  in  heavy  armor,  they  could  not  come 
up  with  the  Scots,  although  they  saw  every  day  the  smoke  of 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  195 

the  houses  and  villages  which  they  were  burning.  The  King 
of  England  was  extremely  angry ;  for,  though  only  a  boy  of 
sixteen  years  old,  he  longed  to  fight  the  Scots,  and  to  chastise 
them  for  the  mischief  they  were  doing  to  his  country;  and  at 
length  he  grew  so  impatient,  that  he  offered  a  large  reward  to 
any  one  who  would  show  him  where  the  Scottish  army  were. 

At  length,  after  the  English  host  had  suffered  severe  hard- 
ships, from  want  of  provisions,  and  fatiguing  journeys 
through  fords,  and  swamps,  and  morasses,  a  gentleman  named 
Rokeby  came  into  the  camp,  and  claimed  the  reward  which 
the  King  had  offered.  He  told  the  King  that  he  had  been 
made  prisoner  by  the  Scots,  and  that  they  said  they  should  be 
as  glad  to  meet  the  English  King  as  he  to  see  them.  Accord- 
ingly, Rokeby  guided  the  English  army  to  the  place  where 
the  Scots  lay  encamped. 

But  the  English  King  was  no  nearer  to  the  battle  which  he 
desired;  for  Douglas  and  Randolph,  knowing  the  force  and 
numbers  of  the  English  army,  had  taken  up  their  camp  on  a 
steep  hill,  at  the  bottom  of  which  ran  a  deep  river,  called  the 
Wear,  having  a  channel  filled  with  large  stones,  so  that  there 
was  no  possibility  for  the  English  to  attack  the  Scots  without 
crossing  the  water,  and  then  climbing  up  the  steep  hill  in  the 
very  face  of  their  enemy;  a  risk  which  was  too  great  to  be 
attempted. 

Then  the  King  sent  a  message  of  defiance  to  the  Scottish 
generals,  inviting  them  either  to  draw  back  their  forces,  and 
allow  him  freedom  to  cross  the  river,  and  time  to  place  his 
army  in  order  of  battle  on  the  other  side,  that  they  might 
fight  fairly,  or  offering,  if  they  liked  it  better,  to  permit  them 
to  cross  over  to  his  side  without  opposition,  that  they  might 
join  battle  on  a  fair  field.  Randolph  and  Douglas  did  noth- 
ing but  laugh  at  this  message.  They  said,  that  when  they 
fought,  it  should  be  at  their  own  pleasure,  and  not  because  the 


196      THE  EXPLOITS   OF  DOUGLAS  AND  RANDOLPH. 

King  of  England  chose  to  ask  for  a  battle.  They  reminded 
him,  insultingly,  how  they  had  been  in  his  country  for  many 
days,  burning,  taking  spoil,  and  doing  what  they  thought  fit. 
If  the  King  was  displeased  with  this,  they  said,  he  must  find 
his  way  across  the  river  to  fight  them,  the  best  way  he  could. 

The  English  King,  determined  not  to  quit  sight  of  the 
Scots,  encamped  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  to  watch 
their  motions,  thinking  that  want  of  provisions  would  oblige 
them  to  quit  their  strong  position  on  the  mountains.  But  the 
Scots  once  more  showed  Edward  their  dexterity  in  marching, 
by  leaving  their  encampment,  and  taking  up  another  post, 
even  stronger  and  more  difficult  to  approach  than  the  first 
which  they  had  occupied.  King  Edward  followed,  and  again 
encamped  opposite  to  his  dexterous  and  troublesome  enemies, 
desirous  to  bring  them  to  a  battle,  when  he  might  hope  to 
gain  an  easy  victory,  having  more  than  double  the  number 
of  the  Scottish  army,  all  troops  of  the  very  best  quality. 

While  the  armies  lay  thus  opposed  to  each  other,  Douglas 
resolved  to  give  the  young  King  of  England  a  lesson  in  the 
art  of  war.  At  the  dead  of  night,  he  left  the  Scottish  camp 
with  a  small  body  of  chosen  horse,  not  above  two  hundred, 
well  armed.  He  crossed  the  river  in  deep  silence,  and  came 
to  the  English  camp,  which  was  but  carelessly  guarded.  See- 
ing this,  Douglas  rode  past  the  English  sentinels  as  if  he  had 
been  an  officer  of  the  English  army,  saying  —  "Ha,  Saint 
George!  you  keep  bad  watch  here."  —  In  those  days,  you 
must  know,  the  English  used  to  swear  by  Saint  George,  as 
the  Scots  did  by  Saint  Andrew.  Presently  after,  Douglas 
heard  an  English  soldier,  who  lay  stretched  by  the  fire,  say 
to  his  comrade,  "  I  cannot  tell  what  is  to  happen  to  us  in  this 
place;  but,  for  my  part,  I  have  a  great  fear  of  the  Black 
Douglas  playing  us  some  trick." 

"You  shall  have  cause  to  say  so,"  said  Douglas  to  himself. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  197 

When  lie  had  thus  got  into  the  midst  of  the  English  camp 
without  being  discovered,  he  drew  his  sword,  and  cut  asunder 
the  ropes  of  a  tent,  calling  out  his  usual  war-cry,  "  Douglas, 
Douglas!  English  thieves,  you  are  all  dead  men."  His  fol- 
lowers immediately  began  to  cut  down  and  overturn  the  tents, 
cutting  and  stabbing  the  English  soldiers  as  they  endeavored 
to  get  to  arms. 

Douglas  forced  his  way  to  the  pavilion  of  the  King  him- 
self, and  very  nearly  carried  the  young  prince  prisoner  out  of 
the  middle  of  his  great  army.  Edward's  chaplain,  however, 
and  many  of  his  household,  stood  to  arms  bravely  in  his 
defence,  while  the  young  King  escaped  by  creeping  away 
beneath  the  canvas  of  his  tent.  The  chaplain  and  several  of 
the  King's  officers  were  slain;  but  the  whole  camp  was  now 
alarmed  and  in  arms,  so  that  Douglas  was  obliged  to  retreat, 
which  he  did  by  bursting  through  the  English  at  the  side  of 
the  camp  opposite  to  that  by  which  he  had  entered.  Being 
separated  from  his  men  in  the  confusion,  he  was  in  great  dan- 
ger of  being  slain  by  an  Englishman  who  encountered  him 
with  a  huge  club.  This  man  he  killed,  but  with  considerable 
difficulty;  and  then  blowing  his  horn  to  collect  his  soldiers, 
who  soon  gathered  around  him,  he  returned  to  the  Scottish 
camp,  having  sustained  very  little  loss. 

Edward,  much  mortified  at  the  insult  which  he  had  re- 
ceived, became  still  more  desirous  of  chastising  those  auda- 
cious adversaries;  and  one  of  them  at  least  was  not  unwilling 
to  afford  him  an  opportunity  of  revenge.  This  was  Thomas 
Randolph,  Earl  of  Murray.  He  asked  Douglas,  when  he 
returned  to  the  Scottish  camp,  "  What  he  had  done?  "  —  "  We 
have  drawn  some  blood."  —  "Ah,"  said  the  Earl,  "had  we 
gone  all  together  to  the  night  attack,  we  should  have  discom- 
fited them."  —  "It  might  well  have  been  so,"  said  Douglas, 
"but  the  risk  would  have  been  too  great."  —  "Then  will  we 


198      TUE  EXPLOITS  OF  DOUGLAS  AND  RANDOLPH, 

fight  them  in  open  battle, "  said  Randolph,  "  for  if  we  remain 
here,  we  shall  in  time  be  famished  for  want  of  provisions." 
—  "Not  so,"  replied  Douglas;  "we  will  deal  with  this  great 
army  of  the  English  as  the  fox  did  with  the  fisherman  in  the 
fable."  —  "And  how  was  that?"  said  the  Earl  of  Murray. — 
Hereupon  the  Douglas  told  him  this  story :  — 

"A  fisherman,"  he  said,  "had  made  a  hut  by  a  river  side, 
that  he  might  follow  his  occupation  of  fishing.  Now,  one 
night  he  had  gone  out  to  look  after  his  nets,  leaving  a  small 
fire  in  his  hut;  and  when  he  came  back,  behold  there  was  a 
fox  in  the  cabin,  taking  the  liberty  to  eat  one  of  the  finest 
salmon  he  had  taken.  *Ho,  Mr.  Robber! '  said  the  fisherman, 
drawing  his  sword,  and  standing  in  the  doorway  to  prevent 
the  fox's  escape,  'you  shall  presently  die  the  death.'  The 
poor  fox  looked  for  some  hole  to  get  out  at,  but  saw  none; 
whereupon  he  pulled  down  with  his  teeth  a  mantle,  which 
was  lying  on  the  bed,  and  dragged  it  across  the  fire.  The 
fisherman  ran  to  snatch  his  mantle  from  the  fire  —  the  fox 
flew  out  at  the  door  with  the  salmon;  and  so,"  said  Douglas, 
"shall  we  escape  the  great  English  army  by  subtlety,  and 
without  risking  battle  with  so  large  a  force." 

Randolph  agreed  to  act  by  Douglas's  counsel,  and  the 
Scottish  army  kindled  great  fires  through  their  encampment, 
and  made  a  noise  and  shouting,  and  blowing  of  horns,  as  if 
they  meant  to  remain  all  night  there,  as  before.  But  in  the 
meantime,  Douglas  had  caused  a  road  to  be  made  through  two 
miles  of  a  great  morass  which  lay  in  their  rear.  This  was 
done  by  cutting  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  bog,  and  filling  the 
trench  with  faggots  of  wood.  Without  this  contrivance  it 
would  have  been  impossible  that  the  army  could  have  crossed; 
and  through  this  passage,  which  the  English  never  suspected, 
Douglas  and  Randolph,  and  all  their  men,  moved  at  the  dead 
of  night.     They  did  not  leave   so  much  as  an  errand-boy 


THE  BEAUT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  I9d 

behind,  and  so  bent  their  march  towards  Scotland,  leaving 
the  English  disappointed  and  affronted.  Great  was  their 
wonder  in  the  morning,  when  they  saw  the  Scottish  camp 
empty,  and  found  no  living  men  in  it,  but  two  or  three  Eng- 
lish prisoners  tied  to  trees,  whom  they  had  left  with  an 
insulting  message  to  the  King  of  England,  saying,  "If  he 
were  displeased  with  what  they  had  done,  he  might  come  and 
revenge  himself  in  Scotland." 

The  place  where  the  Scots  fixed  this  famous  encampment, 
was  in  the  forest  of  Weardale,  in  the  bishopric  of  Durham ; 
and  the  road  which  they  cut  for  the  purpose  of  their  retreat  is 
still  called  the  Shorn  Moss. 

After  this  a  peace  was  concluded  with  Eobert  Bruce,  on 
terms  highly  honorable  to  Scotland;  for  the  English  King 
renounced  all  pretensions  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  country, 
and,  moreover,  gave  his  sister,  a  princess  called  Joanna,  to  be 
wife  to  Eobert  Bruce 's  son,  called  David.  This  treaty  was 
very  advantageous  to  the  Scots.  It  was  called  the  treaty  of 
Northampton,  because  it  was  concluded  at  that  town,  in  the 
year  1328. 

Good  King  Eobert  did  not  long  survive  this  joyful  event. 
He  was  not  aged  more  than  four-and-fifty  years,  but,  as  I  said 
before,  his  bad  health  was  caused  by  the  hardships  which  he 
sustained  during  his  youth,  and  at  length  he  became  very  ill. 
Finding  that  he  could  not  recover,  he  assembled  around  his 
bedside  the  nobles  and  counsellors  in  whom  he  most  trusted. 
He  told  them,  that  now,  being  on  his  death-bed,  he  sorely 
repented  all  his  misdeeds,  and  particularly,  that  he  had,  in 
his  passion,  killed  Comyn  with  his  own  hand,  in  the  church 
and  before  the  altar.  He  said  that  if  he  had  lived,  he  had 
intended  to  go  to  Jerusalem,  to  make  war  upon  the  Saracens 
who  held  the  Holy  Land,  as  some  expiation  for  the  evil  deeds 
he  had  done.     But  since  he  was  about  to  die,  he  requested  of 


200  THE  DEATH  OF  ROBERT  BRUCE. 

his  dearest  friend  and  bravest  warrior,  and  that  was  the  Good 
Lord  James  Douglas,  that  he  should  carry  his  heart  to  the 
Holy  Land. 

To  make  you  understand  the  meaning  of  this  request,  I  must 
tell  you,  that  at  this  time  a  people  called  Saracens,  who 
believed  in  the  false  prophet  Mahomet,  had  obtained  by  con- 
quest possession  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  other  cities  and  places 
which  are  mentioned  in  the  Holy  Scripture;  and  the  Chris- 
tians of  Europe,  who  went  thither  as  pilgrims  to  worship  at 
these  places,  where  so  many  miracles  had  been  wrought,  were 
insulted  by  these  heathen  Saracens.  Hence  many  armies  of 
Christians  went  from  their  own  countries  out  of  every  king- 
dom of  Europe,  to  fight  against  these  Saracens ;  and  believed 
that  they  were  doing  a  great  service  to  religion,  and  that  what 
sins  they  had  committed  would  be  pardoned  by  God  Almighty, 
because  they  had  taken  a  part  in  this  which  they  called  a  holy 
warfare.  You  may  remember  that  Bruce  thought  of  going 
upon  this  expedition  when  he  was  in  despair  of  recovering 
the  crown  of  Scotland:,  and  now  he  desired  his  heart  to  be 
carried  to  Jerusalem  after  his  death,  and  requested  Lord 
James  of  Douglas  to  take  the  charge  of  it.  Douglas  wept 
bitterly  as  he  accepted  this  office,  —  the  last  mark  of  the 
Bruce's  confidence  and  friendship. 

The  King  soon  afterwards  expired;  and  his  heart  was  taken 
out  from  his  body  and  embalmed,  that  is,  prepared  with  spices 
and  perfumes,  that  it  might  remain  a  long  time  fresh  and 
uncorrupted.  Then  the  Douglas  caused  a  case  of  silver  to  be 
made,  into  wliich  he  put  the  Bruce 's  heart,  and  wore  it  around 
his  neck,  by  a  string  of  silk  and  gold.  And  he  set  forward 
for  the  Holy  Land,  with  a  gallant  train  of  the  bravest  men  in 
Scotland,  who,  to  show  their  value  and  sorrow  for  their  brave 
King  Robert  Bruce,  resolved  to  attend  his  heart  to  the  city  of 
Jerusalem.     It  had  been   much  better   for  Scotland  if  the 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  201 

Douglas  and  his  companions  had  staid  at  home  to  defend  their 
own  country,  which  was  shortly  afterwards  in  great  want  of 
their  assistance. 

Neither  did  Douglas  ever  get  to  the  end  of  his  journey.  In 
going  to  Palestine,  he  landed  in  Spain,  where  the  Saracen 
King,  or  Sultan  of  Granada,  called  Osmyn,  was  invading  the 
realms  of  Alphonso,  the  Spanish  King  of  Castile.  King 
Alphonso  received  Douglas  with  great  honor  and  distinction, 
and  people  came  from  all  parts  to  see  the  great  soldier,  whose 
fame  was  well  known  through  every  part  of  the  Christian 
world.  King  Alphonso  easily  persuaded  the  Scottish  Earl 
that  he  would  do  good  service  to  the  Christian  cause,  by 
assisting  him  to  drive  back  the  Saracens  of  Granada  before 
proceeding  on  his  voyage  to  Jerusalem.  Lord  Douglas  and 
his  followers  went  accordingly  to  a  great  battle  against 
Osmyn,  and  had  little  difficulty  in  defeating  the  Saracens  who 
were  opposed  to  them.  But  being  ignorant  of  the  mode  of 
fighting  among  the  cavalry  of  the  East,  the  Scots  pursued  the 
chase  too  far,  and  the  Moors,  when  they  saw  them  scattered 
and  separated  from  each  other,  turned  suddenly  back,  with  a 
loud  cry  of  Allah  illah  Allah,  which  is  their  shout  of  battle, 
and  surrounded  such  of  the  Scottish  knights  and  squires  as 
had  advanced  too  hastily,  and  were  dispersed  from  each  other. 

In  this  new  skirmish,  Douglas  saw  Sir  William  St.  Clair  of 
Eoslyn  fighting  desperately,  surrounded  by  many  Moors,  who 
were  hewing  at  him  with  their  sabres.  "Yonder  worthy 
knight  will  be  slain,"  Douglas  said,  "unless  he  have  instant 
help."  With  that  he  galloped  to  his  rescue,  but  presently  was 
himself  also  surrounded  by  many  Moors.  When  he  found  the 
enemy  press  so  thick  round  him,  as  to  leave  him  no  chance  of 
escaping,  the  Earl  took  from  his  neck  the  Bruce's  heart,  and 
speaking  to  it,  as  he  would  have  done  to  the  King  had  he 
been  alive, — "Pass  first  in  fight,"  he  said,  "as  thou  wert 


202  THE  DEATH  OF  ROBERT  BRUCE, 

wont  to  do,  and  Douglas  will  follow  thee,  or  die."  He  then 
threw  the  King's  heart  among  the  enemy,  and  rushing  for- 
ward to  the  place  where  it  fell,  was  there  slain.  His  body 
was  found  lying  above  the  silver  case,  as  if  it  had  been  his 
last  object  to  defend  the  Bruce' s  heart. 

This  Good  Lord  James  of  Douglas  was  one  of  the  best  and 
wisest  soldiers  that  ever  drew  a  sword.  He  was  said  to  have 
fought  in  seventy  battles,  being  beaten  in  thirteen,  and  vic- 
torious in  fifty-seven.  The  English  accused  him  of  being 
cruel;  and  it  is  said  that  he  had  such  a  hatred  of  the  English 
archers,  that  when  he  made  one  of  them  prisoner,  he  would 
not  dismiss  him  until  he  was  either  blinded  of  his  right  eye, 
or  had  the  first  finger  of  his  right  hand  struck  off.  The 
Douglas's  Larder  also  seems  a  very  cruel  story;  but  the  hatred 
at  that  time  betwixt  the  two  countries  was  at  a  high  pitch, 
and  Lord  James  was  much  irritated  at  the  death  of  his  faith- 
ful servant  Thomas  Dickson;  on  ordinary  occasions  he  was 
mild  and  gentle  to  his  prisoners.  The  Scottish  historians 
describe  the  Good  Lord  James  as  one  who  was  never  dejected 
by  bad  fortune,  or  unduly  elated  by  that  which  was  good. 
They  say  he  was  modest  and  gentle  in  time  of  peace,  but  had 
a  very  different  countenance  upon  a  day  of  battle.  He  was 
tall,  strong,  and  well  made,  of  a  swarthy  complexion,  with 
dark  hair,  from  which  he  was  called  the  Black  Douglas.  He 
lisped  a  little  in  his  speech,  but  in  a  manner  which  became 
him  very  much.  Notwithstanding  the  many  battles  in  which 
he  had  fought,  his  face  had  escaped  without  a  wound.  A 
brave  Spanish  knight  at  the  court  of  King  Alphonso,  whose 
face  was  scarred  by  the  marks  of  Moorish  sabres,  expressed 
wonder  that  Douglas's  countenance  should  be  unmarked 
with  wounds.  Douglas  replied  modestly,  he  thanked  God, 
who  had  always  enabled  his  hands  to  guard  and  protect  his 
face. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  203 

Many  of  Douglas's  followers  were  slain  in  the  battle  in 
which  he  himself  fell.  The  rest  resolved  not  to  proceed  on 
their  journey  to  Palestine,  but  to  return  to  Scotland.  Since 
the  time  of  the  Good  Lord  James,  the  Douglases  have  carried 
upon  their  shields  a  bloody  heart,  with  a  crown  upon  it,  in 
memory  of  this  expedition  of  Lord  James  to  Spain  with  the 
Bruce's  heart.  In  ancient  times  men  painted  such  emblems 
on  their  shields  that  they  might  be  known  by  them  in  battle, 
for  their  helmet  hid  their  face;  and  now,  as  men  no  longer 
wear  armor  in  battle,  the  devices,  as  they  are  called,  belonging 
to  particular  families,  are  engraved  upon  their  seals,  or  upon 
their  silver  plate,  or  painted  upon  their  carriages. 

Thus,  for  example,  there  was  one  of  the  brave  knights  who 
was  in  the  company  of  Douglas,  and  was  appointed  to  take 
charge  of  Bruce's  heart  homewards  again,  who  was  called  Sir 
Simon  Lockhard  of  Lee.  He  took  afterwards  for  his  device, 
and  painted  on  his  shield,  a  man's  heart,  with  a  padlock  upon 
it,  in  memory  of  Bruce's  heart,  which  was  padlocked  in  the 
silver  case.  For  this  reason,  men  changed  Sir  Simon's  name 
from  Lockhard  to  Lockheart,  and  all  who  are  descended  from 
Sir  Simon  are  called  Lockhart  to  this  day.  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  such  a  name.  Master  Hugh  Little  John? 

Well,  such  of  the  Scottish  knights  as  remained  alive 
returned  to  their  own  country.  They  brought  back  the  heart 
of  the  Bruce,  and  the  bones  of  the  Good  Lord  James.  These 
last  were  interred  in  the  church  of  St.  Bride,  where  Thomas 
Dickson  and  Douglas  held  so  terrible  a  Palm  Sunday.  The 
Bruce's  heart  was  buried  below  the  high  altar  in  Melrose 
Abbey.  As  for  his  body,  it  was  laid  in  the  sepulchre  in  the 
midst  of  the  church  of  Dunfermline,  under  a  marble  stone. 
But  the  church  becoming  afterwards  ruinous,  and  the  roof 
falling  down  with  age,  the  monument  was  broken  to  pieces, 
and  nobody  could  tell  where  it  stood.    But  a  little  whiJa 


204  THE  DEATH  OF  ROBERT  BRUCE. 

before  Master  Hugh  Littlejohn  was  born,  which  I  take  to  be 
six  or  seven  years  ago,  when  they  were  repairing  the  church 
at  Dunfermline,  and  removing  the  rubbish,  lo!  they  found 
fragments  of  the  marble  tomb  of  Eobert  Bruce.  Then  they 
began  to  dig  farther,  thinking  to  discover  the  body  of  this 
celebrated  monarch ;  and  at  length  they  came  to  the  skeleton 
of  a  tall  man,  and  they  knew  it  must  be  that  of  King  Robert, 
both  as  he  was  known  to  have  been  buried  in  a  winding  sheet 
of  cloth  of  gold,  of  which  many  fragments  were  found  about 
this  skeleton,  and  also  because  the  breastbone  appeared  to 
have  been  sawed  through,  in  order  to  take  out  the  heart.  So 
orders  were  sent  from  the  King's  Court  of  Exchequer  to  guard 
the  bones  carefully,  until  a  new  tomb  should  be  prepared,  into 
which  they  were  laid  with  profound  respect.  A  great  many 
gentlemen  and  ladies  attended,  and  almost  all  the  common 
people  in  the  neighborhood ;  and  as  the  church  could  not  hold 
half  the  numbers,  the  people  were  allowed  to  pass  through  it, 
one  after  another,  that  each  one,  the  poorest  as  well  as  the 
richest,  might  see  all  that  remained  of  the  great  King  Robert 
Bruce,  who  restored  the  Scottish  monarchy.  Many  people 
shed  tears ;  for  there  was  the  wasted  skull,  which  once  was 
the  head  that  thought  so  wisely  and  boldly  for  his  country's 
deliverance ;  and  there  was  the  dry  bone,  which  had  once  been 
the  sturdy  arm  that  killed  Sir  Henry  de  Bohun,  between  the 
two  armies,  at  a  single  blow,  on  the  evening  before  the  battle 
of  Bannockburn. 

It  is  more  than  five  hundred  years  since  th6  body  of  Bruce 
was  first  laid  into  the  tomb ;  and  how  many  many  millions  of 
men  have  died  since  that  time,  whose  bones  could  not  be 
recognized,  nor  their  names  known,  any  more  than  those  of 
inferior  animals !  It  was  a  great  thing  to  see  that  the  wisdom, 
courage,  and  patriotism  of  a  King,  could  preserve  him  for  such 
a  long  time  in  the  memory  of  the  people  over  whom  he  once 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  205 

reigned.  But  then,  my  dear  child,  you  must  remember,  tha' 
it  is  only  desirable  to  be  remembered  for  praiseworthy  and 
patriotic  actions,  such  as  those  of  Kobert  Bruce.  It  would  be 
better  for  a  prince  to  be  forgotten  like  the  meanest  peasant, 
than  to  be  recollected  for  actions  of  tyranny  or  oppression. 


ALLIN   A  DALE. 

Come  listen  to  me,  you  gallants  so  free, 
All  you  that  love  mirth  for  to  hear, 

And  I  will  tell  you  of  a  bold  outlaw, 
That  lived  in  Nottinghamshire. 

As  Kobin  Hood  in  the  forest  stood, 
All  under  the  greenwood  tree. 

There  was  he  ware  of  a  brave  young  man, 
As  fine  as  fine  might  be. 

The  youngster  was  clothed  in  scarlet  red, 

In  scarlet  fine  and  gay, 
And  he  did  frisk  it  over  the  plain. 

And  chanted  a  roundelay. 

As  Robin  Hood  next  morning  stood, 

Amongst  the  leaves  so  gay, 
There  did  he  spy  the  same  young  man 

Come  drooping  along  the  way. 

The  scarlet  he  wore  the  day  before, 

It  was  clean  cast  away ; 
And  every  step  he  fetcht  a  sigh, 

"  Alack  and  a  well  a  day  ! " 


206  ALLIN  A  BALE. 

Then  stepped  forth  brave  Little  John, 

And  Nick,  the  miller's  son, 
Which  made  the  young  man  bend  his  bow, 

When  as  he  saw  them  come. 

"  Stand  off,  stand  off, "  the  young  man  said, 

"  What  is  your  will  with  me  ?  " 
"  You  must  come  before  our  master  straight, 

Under  yon  greenwood  tree." 

And  when  he  came  bold  Robin  before, 

Eobin  askt  him  courteously, 
"  O  hast  thou  any  money  to  spare 

For  my  merry  men  and  me?" 

"  I  have  no  money, "  the  young  man  said, 

"But  five  shillings  and  a  ring; 
And  that  I  have  kept  this  seven  long  years, 

To  have  it  at  my  wedding. 

"  Yesterday  I  should  have  married  a  maid, 

But  she  is  now  from  me  tane,^ 
And  chosen  to  be  an  old  knight's  delight, 

Whereby  my  poor  heart  is  slain." 

"What  is  thy  name?"  then  said  Robin  Hood, 

"  Come  tell  me  without  any  fail :  " 
"By  the  faith  of  my  body,"  then  said  the  young  man, 

"My  name  it  is  Allin  a  Dale." 

"What  wilt  thou  give  me,"  said  Robin  Hood, 

"  In  ready  gold  or  fee. 
To  help  thee  to  thy  true-love  again. 

And  deliver  her  unto  thee?" 

1  tane,  taken. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  207 

"  I  have  no  money, ''  then  quoth  the  young  man, 

••  No  ready  gold  nor  fee, 
But  I  will  swear  upon  a  book 

Thy  true  servant  for  to  be." 

"How  many  miles  is  it  to  thy  true-love? 

Come  tell  me  without  any  guile : " 
"By  the  faith  of  my  body,"  then  said  the  young  man, 

"It  is  but  five  little  mile." 

Then  Kobin  he  hasted  over  the  plain, 

He  did  neither  stint  ^  nor  lin,* 
Until  he  came  unto  the  church 

Where  Allin  should  keep  his  wedding. 

"What  dost  thou  here?  "  the  bishop  he  said, 

"  I  prithee  now  tell  to  me : " 
"I  am  a  bold  harper,"  quoth  Eobin  Hood, 

"And  the  best  in  the  north  country." 

"  O  welcome,  O  welcome, "  the  bishop  he  said, 

"  That  music  best  pleaseth  me ;  " 
"You  shall  have  no  music,"  quoth  Robin  Hood, 

"Till  the  bride  and  bridegroom  I  see." 

With  that  came  in  a  wealthy  knight, 

Which  was  both  grave  and  old, 
And  after  him  a  finikin  *  lass, 

Did  shine  like  glistering  ^  gold* 

"This  is  no  fit  match,"  quoth  bold  Robin  Hood, 

"That  you  do  seem  to  make  here; 
For  since  we  are  come  unto  the  church. 

The  bride  she  shall  choose  her  own  dear." 

2  Stint,  stop  entirely.  *  finikin,  dainty. 

*  lin,  rest.  *  glistering,  glittering. 


208  ALLIN  A  BALE. 

Then  Kobin  Hood  put  his  horn  to  his  mouth, 

And  blew  blasts  two  or  three ; 
When  four  and  twenty  bowmen  bold 

Came  leaping  over  the  lea. 

And  when  they  came  into  the  church-yard, 

Marching  all  in  a  row, 
The  first  man  was  Allin  a  Dale, 

To  give  bold  Eobin  his  bow. 

"This  is  thy  true-love,"  Robin  he  said, 

"  Young  Allin,  as  I  hear  say ; 
And  you  shall  be  married  at  this  same  time, 

Before  we  depart  away." 

"That  shall  not  be,"  the  bishop  he  said, 

"For  thy  word  shall  not  stand; 
They  shall  be  three  times  askt  in  the  church, 

As  the  law  is  of  our  land." 

Robin  Hood  pulld  off  the  bishop's  coat. 

And  put  it  upon  Little  John ; 
"By  the  faith  of  my  body,"  then  Robin  said, 

"This  cloth  doth  make  thee  a  man." 

When  Little  John  went  into  the  quire. 

The  people  began  for  to  laugh; 
He  askt  them  seven  times  in  the  church, 

Lest  three  times  should  not  be  enough. 

"  Who  gives  me  this  maid,"  then  said  Little  John; 

Quoth  Robin,  "  That  do  I, 
And  he  that  doth  take  her  from  Allin  a  Dale 

Full  dearly  he  shall  her  buy." 


You  ARE  OLD,  Father  William. 

After  the  drawings  by  Sir  John  Tenniel. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  209 

And  thus  having  ended  this  merry  wedding, 

The  bride  lookt  as  fresh  as  a  queen, 
And  so  they  returned  to  the  merry  greenwood, 

Amongst  the  leaves  so  green. 


YOU  ARE   OLD,  FATHER  WILLIAM. 

From  Alice's  Adventures  in  Wonderland. 
Lewis  Carroll 

"You  are  old,  father  William,"  the  young  man  said, 

"And  your  hair  has  become  very  white; 
And  yet  you  incessantly  stand  on  your  head  — 

Do  you  think,  at  your  age,  it  is  right?  " 

"In  my  youth,"  father  William  replied  to  his  son, 

"I  feared  it  might  injure  the  brain; 
But  now  that  I'm  perfectly  sure  I  have  none, 

Why,  I  do  it  again  and  again." 

"You  are  old,"  said  the  youth,  "as  I  mentioned  before, 

And  have  grown  most  uncommonly  fat; 
Yet  you  turned  a  back-somersault  in  at  the  door  — 

Pray, what  is  the  reason  of  that?" 

"In  my  youth,"  said  the  sage,  as  he  shook  his  gray  locks, 

"  I  kept  all  my  limbs  very  supple 
By  the  use  of  this  ointment  —  one  shilling  the  box  — 

Allow  me  to  sell  you  a  couple." 

"You  are  old,"  said  the  youth,  "and  your  jaws  are  too  weak 

Eor  anything  tougher  than  suet; 
Yet  you  finished  the  goose,  with  the  bones  and  the  beak: 

Pray,  how  did  you  manage  to  do  it?" 


210  YOUTH  AND  AGE. 

"In  my  youth,"  said  his  father,  "I  took  to  the  law, 

And  argued  each  case  with  my  wife ; 
And  the  muscular  strength,  which  it  gave  to  my  jaw, 

Has  lasted  the  rest  of  my  life." 

"You  are  old,"  said  the  youth;  "one  would  hardly  suppose 

That  your  eye  was  as  steady  as  ever ; 
Yet  you  balanced  an  eel  on  the  end  of  your  nose  — 

What  made  you  so  awfully  clever?" 

"I  have  answered  three  questions,  and  that  is  enough," 

Said  his  father;  "don't  give  yourself  airs! 
Do  you  think  I  can  listen  all  day  to  such  stuff? 

Be  off,  or  I'll  kick  you  down  stairs!  " 


YOUTH   AND  AGE. 

WilUam  Shakespeare. 

Crabbed  age  and  youth  cannot  live  together  ; 

Youth  is  full  of  pleasance,  age  is  full  of  care ; 

Youth  like  summer  morn,  age  like  winter  weather ; 

Youth  like  summer  brave,  age  like  winter  bare. 

Youth  is  full  of  sport,  age's  breath  is  short ; 

Youth  is  nimble,  age  is  lame ; 

Youth  is  hot  and  bold,  age  is  weak  and  cold ; 

Youth  is  wild,  and  age  is  tame. 

Age,  I  do  abhor  thee ;  youth,  T  do  adore  thee ; 

0,  my  love,  my  love  is  young ! 

Age,  I  do  defy  thee :  0,  sweet  shepherd,  hie  thee, 

For  methinks  thou  stay'st  too  long. 


•'You  ARE  OLD,  Father  William." 

After  the  drawings  by  Sir  John  Tenniel. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  211 

THE  BALLAD  OF  EAST  AND  WEST. 

Rudyard  Kipling. 

Oh,  East  is  East,  and  West  is  West,  and  never  the  twain  shall 

meet, 
Till  Earth  and  Sky  stand  presently  at  God^s  great  Judgment  Seat; 
But  there  is  neither  East  nor  West,  Border,  nor  Breed,  nor  Birth, 
When  two  strong  men  stand  face  to  face,  thd*  they  come  from  the 

ends  of  the  earth. 

Kamal  is  out  with  twenty  men  to  raise  the  Border  side, 

And  he  has  lifted  the  ColoneFs  mare  that  is  the  Colonel's  pride : 

He  has  lifted  her  out  of  the  stable-door  between  the  dawn  and 

the  day, 
And  turned  the  calkins  upon  her  feet,  and  ridden  her  far  away. 
Then  up  and  spoke  the  Colonel's  son  that  led  a  troop  of  the 

Guides : 
"  Is  there  never  a  man  of  all  my  men  can  say  where  Kamal 

hides?" 
Then  up  and  spoke  Mahommed  Khan,  the  son  of  the  Eessaldar, ' 
"  If  ye  know  the  track  of  the  morning-mist,  ye  know  where  his 

pickets  are. 
At  dusk  he  harries  the  Abazai  —  at  dawn  he  is  into  Bonair, 
But  he  must  go  by  Fort  Bukloh  to  his  own  place  to  fare. 
So  if  ye  gallop  to  Fort  Bukloh  as  fast  as  a  bird  can  fly. 
By  the  favor  of  God  ye  may  cut  him  off  ere  he  win  to  the 

Tongue  of  Jagai, 
But  if  he  be  passed  the  Tongue  of  Jagai,  right  swiftly  turn  ye 

then, 
For  the  length  and  the  breadth  of  that  grisly  plain  is  sown 

with  KamaPs  men. 


212  THE  BALLAD   OF  EAST  AND   WEST. 

There  is  rock  to  the  left,  and  rock  to  the  right,  and  low  lean 

thorn  between, 
And  ye  may  hear  a  breech-bolt  snick  where  never  a  man  is 

seen." 
The  ColonePs  son  has  taken  a  horse,  and  a  raw  rough  dun 

was  he, 
With  the  mouth  of  a  bell,  and  the  heart  of  Hell,  and  the  head 

of  the  gallows-tree. 
The  Colonel's  son  to  the  Fort  has  won,  they  bid  him  stay  to 

eat  — 
Who  rides  at  the  tail  of  a  Border  thief,  he  sits  not  long  at  his 

meat. 
He's  up  and  away  from  Fort  Bukloh  as  fast  as  he  can  fly. 
Till  he  was  aware  of  his  father's  mare  in  the  gut  of  the  Tongue 

of  Jagai, 
Till  he  was  aware  of  his  father's  mare  with  Kamal  upon  her 

back, 
And  when  he  could  spy  the  white  of  her  eye,  he  made  the 

pistol  crack. 
He  has  fired  once,  he  has  fired  twice,  but  the  whistling  ball 

went  wide. 
"  Ye  shoot  like  a  soldier,"  Kamal  said.    "  Show  now  if  ye  can 

ride." 
It's  up  and  over  the  Tongue  of  Jagai,  as  blown  dust-devils  go. 
The  dun  he  fled  like  a  stag  of  ten,  but  the  mare  like  a  barren 

doe. 
The  dun  he  leaned  against  the  bit  and  slugged  his  head  above. 
But  the  red  mare  played  with  the  snaffle-bars,  as  a  maiden 

plays  with  a  glove. 
There  was  rock  to  the  left,  and  rock  to  the  right,  and  low  lean 

thorn  between, 
And  thrice  he  heard  a  breech-bolt  snick  the'  never  a  man  was 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  213 

They  have  ridden  the  low  moon  out  of  the  sky,  their  hoofs 

drum  up  the  dawn, 
The  dun  he  went  like  a  wounded  bull,  but  the  mare  like  a  new- 
roused  fawn. 
The  dun  he  fell  at  a  water-course  —  in  a  woful  heap  fell  he. 
And  Kamal  has  turned  the  red  mare  back,  and  pulled  the  rider 

free. 
He  has  knocked  the  pistol  out  of  his  hand  —  small  room  was 

there  to  strive, 
"  'Twas  only  by  favor  of  mine,"  quoth  he,  "  ye  rode  so  long  alive : 
There  was  not  a  rock  for  twenty  mile,  there  was  not  a  clump 

of  tree, 
But  covered  a  man  of  my  own  men  with  his  rifle  cocked  on 

his  knee. 
If  I  had  raised  my  bridle-hand,  as  I  have  held  it  low, 
The  little  jackals  that  flee  so  fast  were  feasting  all  in  a  row : 
If  I  had  bowed  my  head  on  my  breast,  as  I  have  held  it  high. 
The  kite  that  whistles  above  us  now  were  gorged  till  she  could 

not  fly.'' 
Lightly  answered  the  ColonePs  son :  —  "Do  good  to  bird  and 

beast, 
But  count  who  come  for  the  broken  meats  before  thou  makest 

a  feast. 
If  there  should  follow  a  thousand  swords  to  carry  my  bones 

away, 
Belike  the  price  of  a  jackal's  meal  were  more  than  a  thief 

could  pay. 
They  will  feed  their  horse  on  the  standing  crop,  their  men  on 

the  garnered  grain. 
The   thatch  of  the  byres  will  serve  their  fires  when  all  the 

cattle  are  slain. 
But  if  thou  thinkest  the  price  be  fair,  —  thy  brethren  wait 

to  sup, 


214  *  THE  BALLAD  OF  EAST  AND   WEST. 

The  hound  is  kin  to  the  jackal-spawn,  —  howl,  dog,  and  call 

them  up ! 
And  if  thou  thinkest  the  price  be  high,  in  steer  and  gear  and 

stack, 
Give  me  my  father's  mare  again,  and  I'll  fight  my  own  way 

back!" 
Kamal  has  gripped  him  by  the  hand  and  set  him  upon  his  feet. 
"No  talk  shall  be  of  dogs,"  said  he,  "when  wolf  and  grey 

wolf  meet. 
May  I  eat  dirt  if  thou  hast  hurt  of  me  in  deed  or  breath ; 
What  dam  of  lances  brought  thee  forth  to  jest  at  the  dawn 

with  Death?" 
Lightly  answered  the  Colonel's  son :  "  I  hold  by  the  blood  of 

my  clan : 
Take  up  the  mare  for  my  father's  gift — by  God,  she  has 

carried  a  man ! " 
The  red  mare  ran  to  the  Colonel's  son,  and  nuzzled  against 

his  breast, 
"We  be  two  strong  men,"  said  Kamal  then,  "but  she  loveth 

the  younger  best. 
So  she  shall  go  with  a  lifter's  dower,  my  turquoise-studded  rein. 
My  broidered  saddle  and  saddle-cloth,  and    silver   stirrups 

twain ! " 
The  Colonel's  son  a  pistol  drew  and  held  its  muzzle  end, 
"  Ye  have  taken  the  one  from  a  foe,"  said  he ;  "  will  ye  take 

the  mate  from  a  friend  ?  " 
"  A  gift  for  a  gift,"  said  Kamal  straight ;  "  a  limb  for  the  risk 

of  a  limb. 
Thy  father  has  sent  his  son  to  me,  I'll  send  my  son  to  him ! " 
With  that  he  whistled  his  only  son,  that  dropped  from  a 

mountain-crest  — 
He  trod  the  ling  like  a  buck  in  spring,  and  he  looked  like  a 

lance  in  rest. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  215 

*'  Now  here  is  thy  master,"  Kamal  said,  "  who  leads  a  troop  of 

the  Guides, 
And  thou  must  ride  at  his  left  side  as  shield  on  shoulder 

rides. 
Till  Death  or  I  cut  loose  the  tie,  at  camp  and  board  and 

bed. 
Thy  life   is   his  —  thy   fate  it  is  to   guard    him    with    thy 

head. 
So  thou  must  eat  the  White  Queen's  meat,  and  all  her  foes  are 

thine, 
And  thou  must  harry  thy  father's  hold  for  the  peace  of  the 

Border-line, 
And  thou  must  make  a  trooper  tough  and  hack  thy  way  to 

power  — 
Belike  they  will  raise  thee  to  Eessaldar  when  I  am  hanged  in 

Peshawur." 

They  have  looked  each  other  between  the  eyes,  and  there  they 

found  no  fault. 
They  have  taken  the  Oath  of  the  Brother-in-Blood  on  leavened 

bread  and  salt : 
They  have  taken  the  Oath  of  the  Brother-in-Blood  on  fire  and 

fresh-cut  sod. 
On  the  hilt  and  the  haft  of    the   Khyber  knife,  and   the 

Wondrous  Names  of  God. 
The  Colonel's  son  he  rides  the  mare  and  Kamal's  boy  the 

dun, 
And  two  have  come  back  to  Fort  Bukloh  where  there  went 

forth  but  one. 
And  when  they  drew  to  the  Quarter-Guard,  full  twenty  swords 

flew  clear  — 
There  was  not  a  man  but  carried  his  feud  with  the  blood  of 

the  mountaineer. 


216  INCIDENT  OF  THE  FRENCH  CAMP, 

"  Ha'  done !  ha'  done !  "  said  the  Colonel's  son.     "  Put  up  the 

steel  at  your  sides  ! 
Last  night  ye  had  struck  at  a  Border  thief — to-night  'tis  a 

man  of  the  Guides ! " 

Oh,  East  is  East,  and  West  is  West,  and  never  the  two  shall 

meet, 
Till  Earth  and  Sky  stand  presently  at  God's  great  Judgment 

Seat; 
But  there  is  neither  East  nor  West,  Border,  nor  Breed,  nor 

Birth, 
When  two  strong  men  stand  face  to  face,  thd'  they  come  from  the 

ends  of  the  earth. 


INCIDENT  OF  THE  FRENCH   CAMP. 

Robert  Browning. 

You  know,  we  French  stormed  Eatisbon : 

A  mile  or  so  away, 
On  a  little  mound,  Napoleon 

Stood  on  our  storming-day ; 
With  neck  out-thrust,  you  fancy  how, 

Legs  wide,  arms  locked  behind, 
As  if  to  balance  the  prone  brow 

Oppressive  with  its  mind. 

Just  as  perhaps  he  mused  "  My  plans 

That  soar,  to  earth  may  fall. 
Let  once  my  army-leader  Lannes 

Waver  at  yonder  wall,"  — 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  217 

Out  'twixt  the  battery-smokes  there  flew 

A  rider,  bound  on  bound 
Full-galloping ;  nor  bridle  drew 

Until  he  reached  the  mound. 

Then  off  there  flung  in  smiling  joy, 

And  held  himself  erect 
By  just  his  horse's  mane,  a  boy : 

You  hardly  could  suspect  — 
(So  tight  he  kept  his  lips  compressed, 

Scarce  any  blood  came  through) 
You  looked  twice  ere  you  saw  his  breast 

Was  all  but  shot  in  two. 

"  Well,''  cried  he,  "  Emperor,  by  God's  grace 

We've  got  you  Katisbon ! 
The  Marshal's  in  the  market-place. 

And  you'll  be  there  anon 
To  see  your  flag-bird  flap  his  vans 

Where  I,  to  heart's  desire. 
Perched  him !  "    The  chief's  eye  flashed ;  his  plans 

Soared  up  again  like  fire. 

The  chief's  eye  flashed ;  but  presently 

Softened  itself,  as  sheathes 
A  film  the  mother-eagle's  eye 

When  her  bruised  eaglet  breathes ; 
'*  You're  wounded !  "     "  Nay,"  the  soldier's  pride 

Touched  to  the  quick,  he  said : 
"  I'm  killed,  Sire ! "     And  his  chief  beside 

Smiling  the  boy  fell  dead. 


218  LOBD  ullin's  daughteb. 

HERO  AND  LEANDER,  OR  THE  BOY'S 
HELLESPONT. 

Charles  Tennyson  Turner. 

No  colder  local  records  did  I  crave, 

Two  lovers'  names  were  all  my  Hellespont ; 

How  oft,  methought,  the  swimming  youth  was  wont 

To  kiss  the  waters,  where  the  lighted  wave 

Came  trembling  out  from  Sestos !    When  the  gale 

Dimm'd  his  fond  eyes,  and  chilPd  each  supple  limb, 

I  broke  my  heart  for  both,  without  avail. 

I  wept  with  her !  I  sobb'd  and  sank  with  him ! 

And  if  at  times  the  historic  muse  would  fill 

The  strait  with  forms  more  secular  and  vast. 

The  torch  of  Hero  lived  behind  them  still ! 

And  wide-spread  sails  of  war  ran  glowing  past 

Love's  watch-fire,  till,  again,  the  impassion'd  light 

Burst  on  the  lonely  swimmer,  doubly  bright. 


LORD  ULLIN'S  DAUGHTER. 

Thomas  Campbell. 

A  CHIEFTAIN  to  the  Highlands  bound 
Cries,  "  Boatman,  do  not  tarry ! 

And  I'll  give  thee  a  silver  pound 
To  row  us  o'er  the  ferry." 

"  Now  who  be  ye  would  cross  Lochgyle, 
This  dark  and  stormy  water  ?  " 

"  0,  I'm  the  chief  of  Ulva's  isle. 
And  this  Lord  Ullin's  daughter. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  219 

"And  fast  before  her  father's  men 

Three  days  we've  fled  together, 
For  should  he  find  us  in  the  glen, 

My  blood  would  stain  the  heather. 

"His  horsemen  hard  behind  us  ride; 

Should  they  our  steps  discover. 
Then  who  will  cheer  my  bonny  bride, 

When  they  have  slain  her  lover?  " 

Out  spoke  the  hardy  Highland  wight, 

"I'll  go,  my  chief  —  I'm  ready:  — 
It  is  not  for  your  silver  bright. 

But  for  your  winsome  lady : 

"  And  by  my  word !  the  bonny  bird 

In  danger  shall  not  tarry; 
So  though  the  waves  are  raging  white, 

I'll  row  you  o'er  the  ferry." 

By  this  the  storm  grew  loud  apace. 

The  water-wraith  was  shrieking; 
And  in  the  scowl  of  heaven  each  face 

Grew  dark  as  they  were  speaking. 

But  still  as  wilder  blew  the  wind. 

And  as  the  night  grew  drearer, 
Adown  the  glen  rode  armed  men. 

Their  trampling  sounded  nearer. 

"  O  haste  thee,  haste !  "  the  lady  cries, 
"Though  tempests  round  us  gather; 

I'll  meet  the  raging  of  the  skies. 
But  not  an  angry  father." 


220        ''HOW  THEY  BROUGHT  THE  GOOD  NEWS:' 

The  boat  has  left  a  stormy  land, 

A  stormy  sea  before  her,  — 
When,  oh!  too  strong  for  human  hand. 

The  tempest  gathered  o'er  her. 

And  still  they  rowed  amidst  the  roar 

Of  waters  fast  prevailing : 
Lord  Ullin  reached  that  fatal  shore. 

His  wrath  was  changed  to  wailing. 

,    For  sore  dismayed,  through  storm  and  shade, 
His  child  he  did  discover : 
One  lovely  hand  she  stretched  for  aid. 
And  one  was  round  her  lover. 

"  Come  back !  come  back !  "  he  cried  in  grief, 

"Across  this  stormy  water: 
And  I'll  forgive  your  Highland  chief, 

My  daughter !  —  oh  my  daughter ! " 

'Twas  vain:  the  loud  waves  lashed  the  shore, 

Eeturn  or  aid  preventing; 
The  waters  wild  went  o'er  his  child  — 

And  he  was  left  lamenting. 


"HOW  THEY  BROUGHT  THE  GOOD  NEWS 
FROM  GHENT  TO  AIX." 

Robert  Browning. 

I  SPRANG  to  the  stirrup,  and  Joris,  and  he ; 

I  galloped,  Dirck  galloped,  we  galloped  all  three ; 

"Good  speed!  "  cried  the  watch,  as  the  gate-bolts  undrew; 

"  Speed !  "  echoed  the  wall  to  us  galloping  through  j 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  221 

Behind  shut  the  postern,  the  lights  sank  to  rest, 
And  into  the  midnight  we  galloped  abreast. 

Not  a  word  to  each  other;  we  kept  the  great  pace 

Neck  by  neck,  stride  by  stride,  never  changing  our  place ;     ' 

I  turned  in  my  saddle  and  made  its  girths  tight, 

Then  shortened  each  stirrup,  and  set  the  pique  right, 

Kebuckled  the  check-strap,  chained  slacker  the  bit. 

Nor  galloped  less  steadily  Eoland  a  whit. 

'Twas  moonset  at  starting;  but  while  we  drew  near 

Lokeren,  the  cocks  crew  and  twilight  dawned  clear; 

At  Boom,  a  great  yellow  star  came  out  to  see; 

At  Dufifeld,  'twas  morning  as  plain  as  could  be ; 

And  from  Mecheln  church-steeple  we  heard  the  half -chime, 

So,  Joris  broke  silence  with,  "  Yet  there  is  time ! " 

At  Aershot,  up  leaped  of  a  sudden  the  sun, 
And  against  him  the  cattle  stood  black  every  one, 
To  stare  thro'  the  mist  at  us  galloping  past, 
And  I  saw  my  stout  galloper  Roland  at  last, 
With  resolute  shoulders,  each  butting  away 
The  haze,  as  some  bluff  river  headland  its  spray: 

And  his  low  head  and  crest,  just  one  sharp  ear  bent  back 
For  my  voice,  and  the  other  pricked  out  on  his  track; 
And  one  eye's  black  intelligence,  —  ever  that  glance 
O'er  its  white  edge  at  me,  his  own  master,  askance ! 
And  the  thick  heavy  spume-flakes  which  aye  and  anon 
His  fierce  lips  shook  upwards  in  galloping  on. 

By  Hasselt,  Dirck  groaned ;  and  cried  Joris,  "  Stay  spur ! 
Your  Roos  galloped  bravely,  the  fault's  not  in  her, 


222        ''HOW  THEY  BROUGHT  THE  GOOD  NEWS:' 

We'll  remember  at  Aix  "  —  for  one  heard  the  quick  wheeze 
Of  her  chest,  saw  the  stretched  neck  and  staggering  knees, 
And  sunk  tail,  and  horrible  heave  of  the  flank, 
As  down  on  her  haunches  she  shuddered  and  sank. 

So  we  were  left  galloping,  Joris  and  I, 

Past  Looz  and  past  Tongres,  no  cloud  in  the  sky; 

The  broad  sun  above  laughed  a  pitiless  laugh, 

'Keath  our  feet  broke  the  brittle  bright  stubble  like  chaff; 

Till  over  by  Dalhem  a  dome-spire  sprang  white. 

And  "Gallop,"  gasped  Joris,  "for  Aix  is  in  sight!  " 

"How  they'll  greet  us!  "  —  and  all  in  a  moment  his  roan 
Rolled  neck  and  croup  over,  lay  dead  as  a  stone ; 
And  there  was  my  Eoland  to  bear  the  whole  weight 
Of  the  news  which  alone  could  save  Aix  from  her  fate. 
With  his  nostrils  like  pits  full  of  blood  to  the  brim. 
And  with  circles  of  red  for  his  eye-sockets'  rim. 

Then  I  cast  loose  my  buffcoat,  each  holster  let  fall. 

Shook  off  both  my  jack-boots,  let  go  belt  and  all. 

Stood  up  in  the  stirrup,  leaned,  patted  his  ear. 

Called  my  Roland  his  pet-name,  my  horse  without  peer; 

Clapped  my  hands,  laughed  and  sang,  any  noise,  bad  or  good, 

Till  at  length  into  Aix  Roland  galloped  and  stood. 

And  all  I  remember  is  —  friends  flocking  round 
As  I  sat  with  his  head  'twixt  my  knees  on  the  ground; 
And  no  voice  but  was  praising  this  Roland  of  mine. 
As  I  poured  down  his  throat  our  last  measure  of  wine, 
Which  (the  burgesses  voted  by  common  consent) 
Was  no  more  than  his  due  who  brought   good   news  from 
Ghent. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  223 


LANDING   OF    THE   PILGRIM    FATHERS   IN 
NEW   ENGLAND. 

Felicia  Browne  Remans, 

Look  now  abroad  !    Another  race  has  fill'd 

Those  populous  borders  — wide  the  wood  recedes, 

And  towns  shoot  up,  and  fertile  realms  are  till'd  ; 
The  land  is  full  of  harvests  and  green  meads. 

—  Bryant. 

The  breaking  waves  dasli'd  high 

On  a  stern  and  rock-bound  coast, 
And  the  woods  against  a  stormy  sky 

Their  giant  branches  toss'dj 

And  the  heavy  night  hung  dark 

The  hills  and  waters  o'er, 
When  a  band  of  exiles  moor'd  their  bark 

On  the  wild  New  England  shore. 

Not  as  the  conqueror  comes, 

They,  the  true-hearted,  came; 
Not  with  the  roll  of  the  stirring  drums, 

And  the  trumpet  that  sings  of  fame  j 

Not  as  the  flying  come. 

In  silence  and  in  fear ;  — 
They  shook  the  depths  of  the  desert  gloom 

With  their  hymns  of  lofty  cheer. 

Amidst  the  storm  they  sang, 

And  the  stars  heard  and  the  sea; 
And  the  sounding  aisles  of  the  dim  woods  rang 

To  the  anthem  of  the  free ! 


224       TRAFALGAR  AND   THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON. 

The  ocean  eagle  soar'd 

From  his  nest  by  the  white  wave's  foam;: 
And  the  rocking  pines  of  the  forest  roar'd  — 

This  was  their  welcome  home! 

There  were  men  with  hoary  hair 

Amidst  that  pilgrim  band;  — 
Why  had  they  come  to  wither  there, 

Away  from  their  childhood's  land? 

There  was  woman's  fearless  eye, 

Lit  by  her  deep  love's  truth; 
There  was  manhood's  brow  serenely  high, 

And  the  fiery  heart  of  youth. 

What  sought  they  thus  afar  ?  — 

Bright  jewels  of  the  mine? 
The  wealth  of  seas,  the  spoils  of  war?  — 
They  sought  a  faith's  pure  shrine ! 

Ay,  call  it  holy  ground. 

The  soil  where  first  they  trod. 
They  have  left  unstain'd  what  there  they  found 

Freedom  to  worship  God. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  TRAFALGAR,  VICTORY  AND 
DEATH  OF  NELSON. 

From  The  Lifb  of  Nelson. 
Robert  Southey. 

It  was  now  Nelson's  intention  to  rest  awhile  from  his  labors, 
and  recruit  himself,  after  all  his  fatigues  and  cares,  in  the 
society  of  those  whom  he  loved.  All  his  stores  were  brought 
up  from  the  Victory,  and  he  found  in  his  house  at  Merton  the 


TEE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  225 

enjoyment  which  he  had  anticipated.  Many  days  had  not 
elapsed  before  Captain  Blackwood,  on  his  way  to  London 
with  dispatches,  called  on  him  at  five  in  the  morning.  Nel- 
son, who  was  already  dressed,  exclaimed,  the  moment  he  saw 
him:  "I  am  sure  you  bring  me  news  of  the  French  and 
Spanish  fleets !  I  think  I  shall  yet  have  to  beat  them ! " 
They  had  refitted  at  Vigo,  after  the  indecisive  action  with  Sir 
Robert  Calder;  then  proceeded  to  Ferrol,  brought  out  the 
squadron  from  thence,  and  with  it  entered  Cadiz  in  safety. 
"Depend  upon  it,  Blackwood,"  he  repeatedly  said,  "I  shall 
yet  give  M.  Villeneuve  a  drubbing."  But,  when  Blackwood 
had  left  him,  he  wanted  resolution  to  declare  his  wishes  to 
Lady  Hamilton  and  his  sisters,  and  endeavored  to  drive  away 
the  thought.  He  had  done  enough;  he  said,  "Let  the  man 
trudge  it  who  has  lost  his  budget!  "  His  countenance  belied 
his  lips ;  and  as  he  was  pacing  one  of  the  walks  in  the  garden, 
which  he  used  to  call  the  quarter-deck.  Lady  Hamilton  came 
up  to  him,  and  told  him  she  saw  he  was  uneasy.  He  smiled 
and  said:  "No,  he  was  as  happy  as  possible;  he  was  sur- 
rounded by  his  family,  his  health  was  better  since  he  had 
been  on  shore,  and  he  would  not  give  sixpence  to  call  the 
king  his  uncle."  She  replied  that  she  did  not  believe  him, 
that  she  knew  he  was  longing  to  get  at  the  combined  fleets, 
that  he  considered  them  as  his  own  property,  that  he  would 
be  miserable  if  any  man  but  himself  did  the  business,  and 
that  he  ought  to  have  them  as  the  price  and  reward  of  his 
two  years'  long  watching  and  his  hard  chase.  "Nelson,"  said 
she,  "however  we  may  lament  your  absence,  offer  your  ser- 
vices ;  they  will  be  accepted,  and  you  will  gain  a  quiet  heart 
by  it;  you  will  have  a  glorious  victory,  and  then  you  may 
return  here  and  be  happy."  He  looked  at  her  with  tears  in 
his  eyes:  "Brave  Emma!  Good  Emma!  If  there  were  more 
Emma's  there  would  be  more  Nelsons." 


226       TRAFALGAR  AND   THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON. 

His  services  were  as  willingly  accepted  as  they  were  offered; 
and  Lord  Barham,  giving  him  the  list  of  the  navy,  desired 
him  to  choose  his  own  officers.  "Choose  yourself,  my  lord," 
was  his  reply;  "the  same  spirit  actuates  the  whole  profes- 
sion; you  cannot  choose  wrong."  Lord  Barham  then  desired 
him  to  say  what  ships  and  how  many  he  would  wish,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  fleet  which  he  was  going  to  command,  and  said  they 
should  follow  him  as  soon  as  each  was  ready.  No  appoint- 
ment was  ever  more  in  unison  with  the  feelings  and  judgment 
of  the  whole  nation.  They,  like  Lady  Hamilton,  thought 
that  the  destruction  of  the  combined  fleets  ought  properly  to 
be  Nelson's  work;  that  he  who  had  been 

"  Half  around  the  sea-girt  ball, 
The  hunter  of  the  recreant  Gaul,i " 

ought  to  reap  the  spoils  of  the  chase,  which  he  had  watched 
so  long  and  so  perseveringly  pursued. 

Early  on  the  following  morning  (September  fourteenth),  he 
reached  Portsmouth,  and  having  despatched  his  business  on 
shore,  endeavored  to  elude  the  populace  by  taking  a  by-way 
to  the  beach;  but  a  crowd  collected  in  his  train,  pressing 
forward  to  obtain  sight  of  his  face :  many  were  in  tears,  and 
many  knelt  down  before  him,  and  blessed  him  as  he  passed. 
England  has  had  many  heroes,  but  never  one  who  so  entirely 
possessed  the  love  of  his  fellow-countrymen  as  Nelson.  All 
men  knew  that  his  heart  was  as  humane  as  it  was  fearless ; 
that  there  was  not  in  his  nature  the  slightest  alloy  of  selfish- 
ness or  cupidity,  but  that  with  perfect  and  entire  devotion  he 
served  his  country  with  all  his  heart,  and  with  all  his  soul, 
and  with  all  his  strength;  and  therefore  they  loved  him  as 
truly  and  as  fervently  as  he  loved  England.  They  pressed 
upon  the  parapet  to  gaze  after  him  when  his  barge  pushed  off, 
1 "  Songs  of  Trafalgar.'' 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  227 

and  he  was  returning  their  cheers  by  waving  his  hat.  The 
sentinels,  who  endeavored  to  prevent  them  from  trespassing 
upon  this  ground,  were  wedged  among  the  crowd,  and  an 
officer,  who,  not  very  prudently  upon  such  an  occasion, 
ordered  them  to  drive  the  people  down  with  their  bayonets, 
was  compelled  speedily  to  retreat ;  for  the  people  would  not 
be  debarred  from  gazing  till  the  last  moment  upon  the  hero 
—  the  darling  hero  —  of  England. 

He  arrived  off  Cadiz  on  the  twenty -ninth  of  September  — 
his  birthday.  Fearing  that,  if  the  enemy  knew  his  force, 
they  might  be  deterred  from  venturing  to  sea,  he  kept  out  of 
sight  of  land,  desired  Collingwood  to  fire  no  salute  and  hoist 
no  colors,  and  wrote  to  Gibraltar  to  request  that  the  force  of 
the  fleet  might  not  be  inserted  there  in  the  "Gazette."  His 
reception  in  the  Mediterranean  fleet  was  as  gratifying  as  the 
farewell  of  his  countrymen  at  Portsmouth ;  the  officers,  who 
came  on  board  to  welcome  him,  forgot  his  rank  as  commander 
in  their  joy  at  seeing  him  again. 

The  station  which  Nelson  had  chosen  was  some  fifty  or  sixty 
miles  to  the  west  of  Cadiz,  near  Cape  St.  Mary's.  At  this 
distance  he  hoped  to  decoy  the  enemy  out,  while  he  guarded 
against  the  danger  of  being  caught  with  a  westerly  wind  near 
Cadiz,  and  driven  within  the  Straits.  The  blockade  of  the 
port  was  rigorously  enforced,  in  hopes  that  the  combined  fleet 
might  be  forced  to  sea  by  want.  The  Danish  vessels  therefore, 
which  were  carrying  provisions  from  the  French  ports  in  the 
bay,  under  the  name  of  Danish  property,  to  all  the  little  ports 
from  Ayamonte  to  Algeziras,  from  whence  they  were  conveyed 
in  coasting  boats  to  Cadiz,  were  seized.  Without  this  proper 
exertion  of  power  the  blockade  would  have  been  rendered 
nugatory  by  the  advantage  thus  taken  of  the  neutral  flag. 
The    supplies  from    France  were    thus   effectually  cut  off. 


228       TRAFALGAR  AND   THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON. 

There  was  now  every  indication  that  the  enemy  would 
speedily  venture  out;  officers  and  men  were  in  the  highest 
spirits,  at  the  prospect  of  giving  them  a  decisive  blow,  such, 
indeed,  as  would  put  an  end  to  all  further  contest  upon  the 
seas.  Theatrical  amusements  were  performed  every  evening 
in  most  of  the  ships,  and  "God  save  the  King,"  was  the  hymn 
with  which  the  sports  concluded.  "I  verily  believe,"  said 
Nelson,  writing  on  the  sixth  of  October,  "  that  the  country  will 
soon  be  put  to  some  expense  on  my  account,  either  a  monu- 
ment or  a  new  pension  and  honors;  for  I  have  not  the  small- 
est doubt  but  that  a  very  few  days,  almost  hours,  will  put  us 
in  battle.  The  success  no  man  can  insure,  but  for  the  fight- 
ing them,  if  they  can  be  got  at,  I  pledge  myself.  The  sooner 
the  better;  I  don't  like  to  have  these  things  upon  my  mind." 

On  the  ninth  Nelson  sent  Collingwood  what  he  called  in  his 
diary  "the  Nelson-touch."  "I  send  you,"  said  he,  "my  plan 
of  attack,  as  far  as  a  man  dare  venture  to  guess  at  the  very 
uncertain  position  the  enemy  may  be  found  in;  but  it  is  to 
place  you  perfectly  at  ease  respecting  my  intentions,  and  to 
give  full  scope  to  your  judgment  for  carrying  them  into  effect. 
We  can,  my  dear  Coll,  have  no  little  jealousies.  We  have 
only  one  great  object  in  view,  that  of  annihilating  our  enemies, 
and  getting  a  glorious  peace  for  our  country.  No  man  has 
more  confidence  in  another  than  I  have  in  you,  and  no  man 
will  render  your  services  more  justice  than  your  very  old 
friend,  Nelson  and  Bronte." 

About  half  past  nine  in  the  morning  of  the  nineteenth,  the 
Mars,  being  the  nearest  to  the  fleet  of  the  ships  which  formed 
the  line  of  communication  with  the  frigates  in  shore,  repeated  the 
signal  that  the  enemy  were  coming  out  of  port.    The  wind  was  at 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  229 

this  time  very  light,  with  partial  breezes,  mostly  from  the 
S.  S.  W.  Nelson  ordered  the  signal  to  be  made  for  a  chase  in 
the  south-east  quarter.  About  two,  the  repeating  ships  an- 
nounced that  the  enemy  were  at  sea.  All  night  the  British 
fleet  continued  under  all  sail,  steering  to  the  south-east.  At 
daybreak  they  were  in  the  entrance  of  the  Straits,  but  the 
enemy  were  not  in  sight.  About  seven,  one  of  the  frigates 
made  signal  that  the  enemy  were  bearing  north.  Upon  this 
the  Victory  hove  to,  and  shortly  afterwards  Nelson  made  sail 
again  to  the  northward.  In  the  afternoon  the  wind  blew 
fresh  from  the  south-west,  and  the  English  began  to  fear  that 
the  foe  might  be  forced  to  return  to  port. 

A  little  before  sunset,  however,  Blackwood,  in  the  Euryalus^ 
telegraphed  that  they  appeared  determined  to  go  to  the  west- 
ward. "And  that,"  said  the  Admiral  in  his  diary,  "they 
shall  not  do,  if  it  is  in  the  power  of  Nelson  and  Bronte  to 
prevent  them."  Nelson  had  signified  to  Blackwood  that  he 
depended  upon  him  to  keep  sight  of  the  enemy.  They  were 
observed  so  well  that  all  their  motions  were  made  known  to 
him,  and  as  they  wore  twice,  he  inferred  that  they  were  aim- 
ing to  keep  the  port  of  Cadiz  open,  and  would  retreat  there  as 
soon  as  they  saw  the  British  fleet ;  for  this  reason  he  was  very 
careful  not  to  approach  near  enough  to  be  seen  by  them  dur- 
ing the  night.  At  daybreak  the  combined  fleets  were  dis- 
tinctly seen  from  the  Victory^s  deck,  formed  in  a  close  line 
of  battle  ahead,  on  the  starboard  tack,  about  twelve  miles  to 
leeward,  and  standing  to  the  south.  Our  fleet  consisted  of 
twenty-seven  sail  of  the  line  and  four  frigates;  theirs  of 
thirty -three  and  seven  large  frigates.  Their  superiority  was 
greater  in  size  and  weight  of  metal  than  in  numbers.  They 
had  four  thousand  troops  on  board,  and  the  best  riflemen  that 
could  be  procured,  many  of  them  Tyrolese,  were  dispersed 
through  the  ships.     Little  did  the  Tyrolese,  and  little  did  the 


230       TRAFALGAR  AND   THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON. 

Spaniards,  at  that  day,  imagine  what  horrors  the  wicked  tyrant 
whom  they  served  was  preparing  for  their  country. 

Soon  after  daylight  Nelson  came  upon  deck.  The  twenty- 
first  of  October  was  a  festival  in  his  family,  because  on  that 
day  his  uncle,  Captain  Suckling,  in  the  Dreadnought,  with  two 
other  line-of -battle  ships,  had  beaten  off  a  French  squadron  of 
four  sail  of  the  line  and  three  frigates.  Nelson,  with  that  sort 
of  superstition  from  which  few  persons  are  entirely  exempt, 
had  more  than  once  expressed  his  persuasion  that  this  was  to 
be  the  day  of  his  battle  also;  and  he  was  well  pleased  at  seeing 
his  prediction  about  to  be  verified.  The  wind  was  now  from 
the  west  —  light  breezes,  with  a  long  heavy  swell.  Signal 
was  made  to  bear  down  upon  the  enemy  in  two  lines,  and  the 
fleet  set  all  sail.  Collingwood,  in  the  Royal  Sovereign,  led  the 
lee  line  of  thirteen  ships;  the  Victory  led  the  weather  line 
of  fourteen.  Having  seen  that  all  was  as  it  should  be.  Nelson . 
retired  to  his  cabin  and  wrote  this  prayer :  — 

"  May  the  great  God,  whom  I  worship,  grant  to  my  country, 
and  for  the  benefit  of  Europe  in  general,  a  great  and  glorious 
victory;  and  may  no  misconduct  in  any  one  tarnish  it,  and 
may  humanity  after  victory  be  the  predominate  feature  in 
the  British  fleet !  For  myself  individually,  I  commit  my  life 
to  Him  that  made  me;  and  may  His  blessing  alight  on  my 
endeavors  for  serving  my  country  faithfully!  To  Him  I 
resign  myself,  and  the  just  cause  which  is  entrusted  to  me  to 
defend.     Amen,  Amen,  Amen." 

Having  thus  discharged  his  devotional  duties,  he  annexed, 
in  the  same  diary,  the  following  remarkable  writing :  — 

"  October  21st,  1805.  —  Then  in  sight  of  the  combined  fleets  of 
France  and  Spain,  distant  about  ten  miles. 

"  Whereas,  the  eminent  services  of  Emma  Hamilton,  widow 
of  the  Right  Honorable  Sir  William  Hamilton,  have  been  of 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  231 

the  very  greatest  service  to  my  king  and  my  country,  to  my 
knowledge,  without  ever  receiving  any  reward  from  either  our 
king  or  country : 

"First,  that  she  obtained  the  King  of  Spain's  letter,  in 
1796,  to  his  brother,  the  King  of  Naples,  acquainting  him  of 
his  intention  to  declare  war  against  England;  from  which  let- 
ter the  Ministry  sent  out  orders  to  the  then  Sir  John  Jervis 
to  strike  a  stroke,  if  opportunity  offered,  against  either  the 
arsenals  of  Spain  or  her  fleets.  That  neither  of  these  was 
done,  is  not  the  fault  of  Lady  Hamilton;  the  opportunity 
might  have  been  offered. 

"  Secondly,  the  British  fleet  under  my  command  could  never 
have  returned  the  second  time  to  Egypt  had  not  Lady  Hamil- 
ton's influence  with  the  Queen  of  Naples  caused  letters  to  be 
wrote  to  the  governor  of  Syracuse,  that  he  was  to  encourage 
the  fleet's  being  supplied  with  everything,  should  they  put 
into  any  port  in  Sicily.  We  put  into  Syracuse,  and  received 
every  supply;  went  to  Egypt,  and  destroyed  the  French  fleet. 

"Could  I  have  rewarded  these  services,  I  would  not  now 
call  upon  my  country ;  but  as  that  has  not  been  in  my  power, 
I  leave  Emma,  Lady  Hamilton,  therefore  a  legacy  to  my  king 
and  country,  that  they  will  give  her  an  ample  provision  to 
maintain  her  rank  in  life. 

"  I  also  leave  to  the  beneficence  of  my  country  my  adopted 
daughter,  Horatia  Nelson  Thompson;  and  I  desire  she  will 
use  in  future  the  name  of  Nelson  only. 

"  These  are  the  only  favors  I  ask  of  my  king  and  country  at 
this  moment  when  I  am  going  to  fight  their  battle.  May  God 
bless  my  king  and  country,  and  all  those  I  hold  dear !  My 
relations  it  is  needless  to  mention;  they  will,  of  course,  be 
amply  provided  for.  Nelson  and  Bronte. 

"  Witnesses  l"'^^''^''  Blackwood, 
(."T.  M.  Hardy." 


232      TttAFALGAU  AND  THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON. 

Blackwood  went  on  board  the  Victory  about  six.  He  found 
Nelson  in  good  spirits,  but  very  calm ;  not  in  that  exhilaration 
which  he  had  felt  upon  entering  into  battle  at  Aboukir  and 
Copenhagen ;  he  knew  that  his  own  life  would  be  particularly 
aimed  at,  and  seems  to  have  looked  for  death  with  almost  as 
sure  an  expectation  as  for  victory.  His  whole  attention  was 
fixed  upon  the  enemy.  They  tacked  to  the  northward,  and 
formed  their  line  on  the  larboard  tack;  thus  bringing  the 
shoals  of  Trafalgar  and  St.  Pedro  under  the  lee  of  the  British, 
and  keeping  the  port  of  Cadiz  open  for  themselves.  This 
was  judiciously  done;  and  Nelson,  aware  of  all  the  advantages 
which  he  gave  them,  made  signal  to  prepare  to  anchor. 


Nelson,  certain  of  a  triumphant  issue  to  the  day,  asked 
Blackwood  what  he  should  consider  as  a  victory.  That  officer 
answered,  that,  considering  the  handsome  way  in  which  battle 
was  offered  by  the  enemy,  their  apparent  determination  for 
a  fair  trial  of  strength,  and  the  situation  of  the  land,  he 
thought  it  would  be  a  glorious  result  if  fourteen  were  cap- 
tured. He  replied :  "  I  shall  not  be  satisfied  with  less  than 
twenty."  Soon  afterwards  he  asked  him  if  he  did  not  think 
there  was  a  signal  wanting.  Captain  Blackwood  made  answer 
that  he  thought  the  whole  fleet  seemed  very  clearly  to  under- 
stand what  they  were  about.  These  words  were  scarcely 
spoken  before  that  signal  was  made  which  will  be  remembered 
as  long  as  the  language  or  even  the  memory  of  England  shall 
endure  —  Nelson's  last  signal:  "England  expects  every 
MAN  TO  DO  HIS  DUTY  ! "  It  was  received  throughout  the 
fleet  with  a  shout  of  answering  acclamation,  made  sublime  by 
the  spirit  which  it  breathed,  and  the  feeling  which  it  ex- 
pressed. "Now,"  said  Lord  Nelson,  "I  can  do  no  more.  We 
must  trust  to  the  great  Disposer  of  all  events  and  the  justice 


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E8 

THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  233 

of  our  cause.     I  thank  God  for  this  great  opportunity  of  doing 
my  duty." 

He  wore  that  day,  as  usual,  his  admiraPs  frock-coat,  bear- 
ing on  the  left  breast  four  stars  of  the  different  orders  with 
which  he  was  invested.  Ornaments  which  rendered  him  so 
conspicuous  a  mark  for  the  enemy  were  beheld  with  ominous 
apprehension  by  his  officers.  It  was  known  that  there  were 
riflemen  on  board  the  French  ships,  and  it  could  not  be 
doubted  but  that  his  life  would  be  particularly  aimed  at. 
They  communicated  their  fears  to  each  other  j  and  the  sur- 
geon, Mr.  Beatty,  spoke  to  the  chaplain.  Dr.  Scott,  and  to 
Mr.  Scott,  the  public  secretary,  desiring  that  some  person 
would  entreat  him  to  change  his  dress  or  cover  the  stars; 
but  they  knew  that  such  a  request  would  highly  displease 
him.  "  In  honor  I  gained  them, "  he  had  said  when  such  a 
thing  had  been  hinted  to  him  formerly,  "  and  in  honor  I  will 
die  with  them."  Mr.  Beatty,  however,  would  not  have  been 
deterred  by  any  fear  of  exciting  his  displeasure  from  speaking 
to  him  himself  upon  a  subject  in  which  the  weal  of  England, 
as  well  as  the  life  of  Nelson,  was  concerned;  but  he  was 
ordered  from  the  deck  before  he  could  find  an  opportunity. 
This  was  a  point  upon  which  Nelson's  officers  knew  that  it 
was  hopeless  to  remonstrate  or  reason  with  him;  but  both 
Blackwood  and  his  own  captain.  Hardy,  represented  to  him 
how  advantageous  to  the  fleet  it  would  be  for  him  to  keep  out 
of  action  as  long  as  possible ;  and  he  consented  at  last  to  let 
the  Leviathan  and  the  Temeraire,  which  were  sailing  abreast 
of  the  Victory,  be  ordered  to  pass  ahead.  Yet  even  here  the 
last  infirmity  of  this  noble  mind  was  indulged,  for  these  ships 
could  not  pass  ahead  if  the  Victory  continued  to  carry  all  her 
sail ;  and  so  far  was  Nelson  from  shortening  sail,  that  it  was 
evident  he  took  pleasure  in  pressing  on,  and  rendering  it  im- 
possible for  them  to  obey  his  own  orders,     A  long  swell  was 


234       TRAFALGAR  AND   THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON, 

setting  into  the  Bay  of  Cadiz.  Our  ships,  crowding  all  sail, 
moved  majestically  before  it,  with  light  winds  from  the  south- 
west. The  sun  shone  on  the  sails  of  the  enemy,  and  their 
well-formed  line,  with  their  numerous  three-deckers,  made  an 
appearance  which  any  other  assailants  would  have  thought 
formidable;  but  the  British  sailors  only  admired  the  beauty 
and  the  splendor  of  the  spectacle ;  and,  in  full  confidence  of 
winning  what  they  saw,  remarked  to  each  other  what  a  fine 
sight  yonder  ships  would  make  at  Spithead ! 

The  French  admiral,  from  the  Bucentaure,  beheld  the  new 
manner  in  which  his  enemy  was  advancing  —  Nelson  and 
Collingwood  each  leading  his  line ;  and  pointing  them  out  to 
his  officers,  he  is  said  to  have  exclaimed  that  such  conduct 
could  not  fail  to  be  successful.  Yet  Villeneuve  had  made  his 
own  dispositions  with  the  utmost  skill,  and  the  fleets  under 
his  command  waited  for  the  attack  with  perfect  coolness. 
Ten  minutes  before  twelve  they  opened  their  fire.  Eight  or 
nine  of  the  ships  immediately  ahead  of  the  Victory,  and  across 
her  bows,  fired  single  guns  at  her  to  ascertain  whether  she 
was  yet  within  their  range.  As  soon  as  Nelson  perceived 
that  their  shot  passed  over  him,  he  desired  Blackwood  and 
Captain  Prowse,  of  the  Sirius,  to  repair  to  their  respective 
frigates,  and  on  their  way  to  tell  all  the  captains  of  the  line- 
of -battle  ships  that  he  depended  on  their  exertions,  and  that, 
if  by  the  prescribed  mode  of  attack  they  found  it  impractica- 
ble to  get  into  action  immediately,  they  might  adopt  what- 
ever they  thought  best,  provided  it  led  them  quickly  and 
closely  alongside  an  enemy.  As  they  were  standing  on  the 
front  of  the  poop,  Blackwood  took  him  by  the  hand,  saying  he 
hoped  soon  to  return,  and  find  him  in  possession  of  twenty 
prizes.  He  replied,  "  God  bless  you,  Blackwood ;  I  shall  never 
see  you  again." 

Nelson's  column  was  steered  about  two  points  more  to  the 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  235 

north  than  Collingwood^s,  in  order  to  cut  off  the  enemy's 
escape  into  Cadiz.  The  lee  line,  therefore,  was  first  engaged. 
"See,"  cried  Nelson,  pointing  to  the  Royal  Sovereign^  as  she 
steered  right  for  the  centre  of  the  enemy's  line,  cut  through 
it  astern  of  the  Santa  Anna,  three-decker,  and  engaged  her  at 
the  muzzle  of  her  guns  on  the  starboard  side;  "see  how  that 
noble  fellow  Collingwood  carries  his  ship  into  action !  "  Col- 
lingwood,  delighted  at  being  first  in  the  heat  of  the  fire,  and 
knowing  the  feelings  of  his  commander  and  old  friend,  turned 
to  his  captain  and  exclaimed :  "  Eotherham,  what  would  Nel- 
son give  to  be  here !  " 

The  enemy  continued  to  fire  a  gun  at  a  time  at  the  Victory 
till  they  saw  that  a  shot  had  passed  through  her  main-top  gal- 
lant-sail; then  they  opened  their  broadsides,  aiming  chiefly  at 
her  rigging,  in  the  hope  of  disabling  her  before  she  could  close 
with  them.  Nelson,  as  usual,  had  hoisted  several  flags,  lest  one 
should  be  shot  away.  The  enemy  showed  no  colors  till  late 
in  the  action,  when  they  began  to  feel  the  necessity  of  having 
them  to  strike.  For  this  reason  the  Santissima  Trinadad, 
Nelson's  old  acquaintance,  as  he  used  to  call  her,  was  distin- 
guishable only  by  her  four  decks,  and  to  the  bow  of  this 
opponent  he  ordered  the  Victory  to  be  steered.  Meantime  an 
incessant  raking  fire  was  kept  up  upon  the  Victory.  The 
Admiral's  secretary  was  one  of  the  first  who  fell;  he  was 
killed  by  a  cannon  shot  while  conversing  with  Hardy.  Cap- 
tain Adair,  of  the  marines,  with  the  help  of  a  sailor,  en- 
deavored to  remove  the  body  from  Nelson's  sight,  who  had  a 
great  regard  for  Mr.  Scott,  but  he  anxiously  asked,  "  Is  that 
poor  Soott  that's  gone?"  and  being  informed  that  it  was  so, 
exclaimed,  "Poor  fellow!"  Presently  a  double-headed  shot 
struck  a  party  of  marines  who  were  drawn  up  on  the  poop, 
and  killed  eight  of  them,  upon  which  Nelson  immediately 


236       TRAFALGAR  AND   THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON, 

desired  Captain  Adair  to  disperse  his  men  round  the  ship,  that 
they  might  not  suffer  so  much  from  being  together.  A  few 
minutes  afterwards  a  shot  struck  the  fore-brace  bits  on  the 
quarter-deck,  and  passed  between  Nelson  and  Hardy,  a  splinter 
from  the  bit  tearing  off  Hardy's  buckle  and  bruising  his  foot. 
Both  stopped,  and  looked  anxiously  at  each  other :  each  sup- 
posed the  other  to  be  wounded.  Nelson  then  smiled,  and 
said :  "  This  is  too  warm  work.  Hardy,  to  last  long. " 

The  Victory  had  not  yet  returned  a  single  gun;  fifty  of  her 
men  had  been  by  this  time  killed  or  wounded,  and  her  main- 
topmast,  with  all  her  studding-sails  and  her  booms,  shot 
away.  Nelson  declared  that  in  all  his  battles  he  had  seen 
nothing  which  surpassed  the  cool  courage  of  his  crew  on  this 
occasion.  At  four  minutes  after  twelve  she  opened  her  fire 
from  both  sides  of  her  deck.  It  was  not  possible  to  break 
the  enemy's  line  without  running  on  board  one  of  their 
ships.  Hardy  informed  him  of  this,  and  asked  him  which  he 
would  prefer.  Nelson  replied :  "  Take  your  choice.  Hardy ;  it 
does  not  signify  much."  The  master  was  then  ordered  to  put 
the  helm  to  port,  and  the  Victory  ran  on  board  the  Redoubtable 
just  as  her  tiller-ropes  were  shot  away.  The  French  ship 
received  her  with  a  broadside,  then  instantly  let  down  her 
lower-deck  ports  for  fear  of  being  boarded  through  them, 
and  never  afterwards  fired  a  great  gun  during  the  action. 
Her  tops,  like  those  of  all  the  enemy's  ships,  were  filled 
with  riflemen.  Nelson  never  placed  musketry  in  his  tops ;  he 
had  a  strong  dislike  to  the  practice,  not  merely  because  it 
endangers  setting  fire  to  the  sails,  but  also  because  it  is  a 
murderous  sort  of  warfare,  by  which  individuals  may  suffer, 
and  a  commander  now  and  then  be  picked  off,  but  which  never 
can  decide  the  fate  of  a  general  engagement. 

Captain  Harvey,  in  the  Temeraire,  fell  on  board  the  Re- 
^oubtable  on  the  other  side;  another  enemy  was  in  like  man- 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  237 

ner  on  board  the  Temeraire  ;  so  that  these  four  ships  formed  as 
compact  a  tier  as  if  they  had  been  moored  together,  their  heads 
all  lying  the  same  way.  The  lieutenants  of  the  Victory  seeing 
this,  depressed  their  guns  of  the  middle  and  lower  decks,  and 
fired  with  a  diminished  charge,  lest  the  shot  should  pass 
through  and  injure  the  Temeraire  ;  and  because  there  was  dan- 
ger that  the  Redoubtable  might  take  fire  from  the  lower  deck 
guns,  the  muzzles  of  which  touched  her  side  when  they  were 
run  out,  the  fireman  of  each  gun  stood  ready  with  a  bucket  of 
water ;  which,  as  soon  as  the  gun  was  discharged,  he  dashed 
into  the  hole  made  by  the  shot.  An  incessant  fire  was  kept 
up  from  the  Victory  from  both  sides ;  her  larboard  guns  play- 
ing upon  the  Bucentaure  and  the  huge  Santissima  Trinidad. 

It  had  been  part  of  Nelson's  prayer,  that  the  British  fleet 
might  be  distinguished  by  humanity  in  the  victory  which  he 
expected.  Setting  an  example  himself,  he  twice  gave  orders 
to  cease  firing  upon  the  Redoubtable,  supposing  that  she  had 
struck,  because  her  great  guns  were  silent;  for,  as  she  carried 
no  flag,  there  was  no  means  of  instantly  ascertaining  the  fact. 
Erom  this  ship,  which  he  had  thus  twice  spared,  he  received 
his  death.  A  ball  fired  from  her  mizzen-top,  which  in  the 
then  situation  of  the  two  vessels  was  not  more  than  fifteen 
yards  from  that  part  of  the  deck  where  he  was  standing, 
struck  the  epaulette  on  his  left  shoulder,  about  a  quarter  after 
one,  just  in  the  heat  of  action.  He  fell  upon  his  face,  on  the 
spot  which  was  covered  with  his  poor  secretary's  blood. 
Hardy,  who  was  a  few  steps  from  him,  turning  round,  saw 
three  men  raising  him  up.  "  They  have  done  for  me  at  last, 
Hardy!"  said  he.  "I  hope  not!"  cried  Hardy.  "Yes,"  he 
replied ;  "  my  back-bone  is  shot  through !  "  Yet  even  now,  not 
for  a  moment  losing  his  presence  of  mind,  he  observed  as  they 
were  carrying  him  down  the  ladder  that  the  tiller-ropes, 
which  had  been  shot  away,  were  not  yet  replaced,  and  ordered 


238       TBAFALGAR  AND   THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON. 

that  new  ones  should  be  rove  immediately.  Then,  that  he 
might  not  be  seen  by  the  crew,  he  took  out  his  handkerchief 
and  covered  his  face  and  his  stars.  Had  he  but  concealed  these 
badges  of  honor  from  the  enemy,  England,  perhaps,  would  not 
have  had  cause  to  receive  with  sorrow  the  news  of  the  battle 
of  Trafalgar.  The  cockpit  was  crowded  with  wounded  and 
dying  men,  over  whose  bodies  he  was  with  some  difficulty  con- 
veyed, and  laid  upon  a  pallet  in  the  midshipmen's  berth.  It 
was  soon  perceived,  upon  examination,  that  the  wound  was 
mortal.  This,  however,  was  concealed  from  all  except  Cap- 
tain Hardy,  the  chaplain,  and  the  medical  attendants.  He 
himself  being  certain,  from  the  sensation  in  his  back  and  the 
gush  of  blood  he  felt  momently  within  his  breast,  that  no 
human  care  could  avail  him,  insisted  that  the  surgeon  should 
leave  him,  and  attend  to  those  to  whom  he  might  be  useful: 
"for,"  said  he,  "you  can  do  nothing  for  me.''  All  that  could 
be  done  was  to  fan  him  with  paper,  and  frequently  to  give  him 
lemonade  to  alleviate  his  intense  thirst.  He  was  in  great 
pain,  and  expressed  much  anxiety  for  the  event  of  the  action, 
which  now  began  to  declare  itself.  As  often  as  a  ship  struck, 
the  crew  of  the  Victory  hurrahed,  and  at  every  hurrah  a  visi- 
ble expression  of  joy  gleamed  in  the  eyes  and  marked  the 
countenance  of  the  dying  hero.  But  he  became  impatient  to 
see  Captain  Hardy,  and  as  that  officer,  though  often  sent  for, 
could  not  leave  the  deck,  Nelson  feared  that  some  fatal  cause 
prevented  him,  and  repeatedly  cried:  "Will  no  one  bring 
Hardy  to  me?  He  must  be  killed!  He  is  surely  dead! "  An 
hour  and  ten  minutes  elapsed  from  the  time  when  Nelson 
received  his  wound  before  Hardy  could  come  to  him.  They 
shook  hands  in  silence ;  Hardy  in  vain  struggling  to  suppress 
the  feelings  of  that  most  painful  and  yet  sublimest  moment. 
"  Well,  Hardy,"  said  Nelson,  ''  how  goes  the  day  with  us  ? " 
"Very  well,"  replied  Hardy;    "ten  ships   have   struck,  but 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  239 

five  of  their  van  have  tacked,  and  show  an  intention  to  bear 
down  upon  the  Victory.  I  have  called  two  or  three  of  our 
fresh  ships  round,  and  have  no  doubt  of  giving  them  a  drub- 
bing."—  "I  hope,"  said  Nelson,  "none  of  our  ships  have 
struck?"  Hardy  answered,  "There  was  no  fear  of  that." 
Then,  and  not  till  then.  Nelson  spoke  of  himself.  "  I  am  a 
dead  man.  Hardy, "  said  he ;  "I  am  going  fast ;  it  will  be  all 
over  with  me  soon."  Hardy  observed  that  he  hoped  Mr. 
Beatty  could  yet  hold  out  some  prospect  of  life.  "  Oh,  no !  " 
he  replied,  "it  is  impossible;  my  back  is  shot  through. 
Beatty  will  tell  you  so."  Captain  Hardy  then  once  more 
shook  hands  with  him,  and  with  a  heart  almost  bursting, 
hastened  upon  deck. 

By  this  time  all  feeling  below  the  breast  was  gone;  and 
Nelson,  having  made  the  surgeon  ascertain  this,  said  to  him : 
"  You  know  I  am  gone.  I  know  it.  I  feel  something  rising 
in  my  breast "  —  putting  his  hand  on  his  left  side  —  "  which 
tells  me  so."  And  upon  Beatty 's  inquiring  whether  his  pain 
was  very  great,  he  replied :  "  So  great  that  he  wished  he  was 
dead.  Yet,"  said  he  in  a  lower  voice,  "one  would  like  to  live 
a  little  longer  too !  " 

Captain  Hardy,  some  fifty  minutes  after  he  had  left  the 
cockpit,  returned,  and  again  taking  the  hand  of  his  dying 
friend  and  commander,  congratulated  him  on  having  gained 
a  complete  victory.  How  many  of  the  enemy  were  taken  he 
did  not  know,  as  it  was  impossible  to  perceive  them  dis- 
tinctly; but  fourteen  or  fifteen  at  least.  "That's  well!  "  cried 
Nelson;  "but  I  bargained  for  twenty."  And  then  in  a 
stronger  voice  he  said:  "Anchor,  Hardy,  anchor."  Hardy 
upon  this  hinted  that  Admiral  Collingwood  would  take  upon 
himself  the  direction  of  affairs.  "Not  while  I  live.  Hardy," 
said  the  dying  Nelson,  ineffectually  endeavoring  to  raise  him- 
self from  the  bed:  "Do  you  anchor."     His  previous  order  for 


240       TRAFALGAR  AND   THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON. 

preparing  to  anchor  had  shown  how  clearly  he  foresaw  the 
necessity  of  this.  Presently,  calling  Hardy  back,  he  said  to 
him  in  a  low  voice:  "Don't  throw  me  overboard j"  and  he 
desired  that  he  might  be  buried  by  his  parents,  unless  it 
should  please  the  king  to  order  otherwise. 

"Kiss  me.  Hardy,"  said  he.  Hardy  knelt  down  and  kissed 
his  cheek,  and  Nelson  said:  "Now  I  am  satisfied.  Thank 
God,  I  have  done  my  duty ! "  Hardy  stood  over  him  in 
silence  for  a  moment  or  two,  then  knelt  again  and  kissed  his 
forehead.  "Who  is  that?"  said  Nelson;  and  being  informed, 
he  replied:  "God  bless  you,  Hardy."  And  Hardy  then  left 
him  forever. 

Nelson  now  desired  to  be  turned  upon  his  right  side,  and 
said:  "I  wish  I  had  not  left  the  deck,  for  I  shall  soon  be 
gone."  Death  was  indeed  rapidly  approaching.  He  said  to 
the  chaplain:  "Doctor,  I  have  not  been  a  great  sinner."  His 
articulation  now  became  difficult,  but  he  was  distinctly  heard 
to  say :  "  Thank  God,  I  have  done  my  duty !  "  These  words 
he  repeatedly  pronounced,  and  they  were  the  last  words  which 
he  uttered.  He  expired  at  thirty  minutes  after  four,  three 
hours  and  a  quarter  after  he  had  received  his  wound. 

Within  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  Nelson  was  wounded 
above  fifty  of  the  Victory^s  men  fell  by  the  enemy's  mus- 
ketry. They,  however,  on  their  part  were  not  idle,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  there  were  only  two  Frenchmen  left  alive  in 
the  mizzen-top  of  the  Redoubtable.  One  of  them  was  the  man 
who  had  given  the  fatal  wound  —  he  did  not  live  to  boast  of 
what  he  had  done.  An  old  quartermaster  had  seen  him  fire, 
and  easily  recognized  him  because  he  wore  a  glazed  cocked- 
hat  and  a  white  frock.  This  quartermaster  and  two  midship- 
men, Mr.  Collingwood,  and  Mr.  Pollard,  were  the  only  persons 
left  in  the  Ficiory's  poop;  the  two  midshipmen  kept  firing  at 
the  top,  and  he  supplied  them  with  cartridges.     One  of  the 


THE  BEAUT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  241 

Frenchmen,  attempting  to  make  his  escape  down  the  rigging, 
was  shot  by  Mr.  Pollard,  and  fell  on  the  poop.  But  the  old 
quartermaster,  as  he  cried  out,  "That's  he,  that's  he!"  and 
pointed  at  the  other,  who  as  coming  forward  to  fire  again, 
received  a  shot  in  his  mouth  and  fell  dead.  Both  the  midship- 
men then  fired  at  the  same  time,  and  the  fellow  dropped  in 
the  top.  When  they  took  possession  of  the  prize,  they  went 
into  the  mizzen-top  and  found  him  dead,  with  one  ball  through 
his  head  and  another  through  his  breast. 

m  *  M^  *  *  *  «««« 

Once,  amidst  his  sufferings,  Nelson  had  expressed  a  wish 
that  he  were  dead;  but  immediately  the  spirit  subdued  the 
pains  of  death,  and  he  wished  to  live  a  little  longer  —  doubt- 
less that  he  might  hear  the  completion  of  the  victory  which 
he  had  seen  so  gloriously  begun.  That  consolation,  that  joy, 
that  triumph  was  afforded  him.  He  lived  to  know  that  the 
victory  was  decisive,  and  the  last  guns  which  were  fired  at  the 
flying  enemy  were  heard  a  minute  or  two  before  he  expired. 
The  ships  which  were  thus  flying  were  four  of  the  enemy's 
van,  all  French,  under  Eear- Admiral  Dumanoir.  They  had 
borne  no  part  in  the  action;  and  now,  when  they  were  seek- 
ing safety  in  flight,  they  fired  not  only  into  the  Victory  and 
Royal  Sovereign  as  they  passed,  but  poured  their  broadsides 
into  the  Spanish  captured  ships,  and  they  were  seen  to  back 
their  topsails  for  the  purpose  of  firing  with  more  precision. 
The  indignation  of  the  Spaniards  at  this  detestable  cruelty 
from  their  allies,  for  whom  they  had  fought  so  bravely  and 
so  profusely  bled,  may  well  be  conceived.  It  was  such  that 
when,  two  days  after  the  action,  seven  of  the  ships  which  had 
escaped  into  Cadiz,  came  out,  in  hopes  of  retaking  some  of  the' 
disabled  prizes,  the  prisoners  in  the  Argonauta  in  a  body 
offered  their  services  to  the  British  prize-master  to  man  the 
guns   against   any   of  the   French   ships;  saying,    that   if  a 


242       TRAFALGAR  AND   THE  DEATH  OF  NELSON. 

Spanish  ship  came  alongside  they  would  quietly  go  below,  but 
they  requested  that  they  might  be  allowed  to  light  the  French 
in  resentment  for  the  murderous  usage  which  they  had  suffered 
at  their  hands.  Such  was  their  earnestness,  and  such  the 
implicit  confidence  which  could  be  placed  in  Spanish  honor, 
that  the  offer  was  accepted,  and  they  were  actually  stationed 
at  the  lower-deck  guns. 

♦  *#  *  m  ***  ** 

The  total  British  loss  in  the  battle  of  Trafalgar  amounted 
to  1587.  Twenty  of  the  enemy  struck:  unhappily,  the  fleet 
did  not  anchor,  as  Nelson,  almost  with  his  dying  breath,  had 
enjoined.  A  gale  came  on  from  the  south-west :  some  of  the 
prizes  went  down ;  some  went  on  shore ;  one  effected  its  escape 
into  Cadiz ;  others  were  destroyed ;  four  only  were  saved,  and 
those  by  the  greatest  exertions.  The  wounded  Spaniards  were 
sent  ashore,  an  assurance  being  given  that  they  should  not 
serve  till  regularly  exchanged;  and  the  Spaniards,  with  a 
generous  feeling,  which  would  not  perhaps  have  been  found 
in  any  other  people,  offered  the  use  of  their  hospitals  for  our 
wounded,  pledging  the  honor  of  Spain  that  they  should  be 
carefully  attended  there.  When  the  storm,  after  the  action, 
drove  some  of  the  prizes  upon  the  coast,  they  declared  that  the 
English,  who  were  thus  thrown  into  their  hands,  should  not 
be  considered  as  prisoners  of  war;  and  the  Spanish  soldiers 
gave  up  their  own  beds  to  their  shipwrecked  enemies.  The 
Spanish  vice-admiral,  Alava,  died  of  his  wounds.  Villeneuve 
was  sent  to  England,  and  permitted  to  return  to  France.  The 
French  Government  say  that  he  destroyed  himself  on  the  way 
to  Paris,  dreading  the  consequences  of  a  court-martial;  but 
there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  tyrant,  who  never 
acknowledged  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Trafalgar,  added  Ville- 
neuve to  the  numerous  victims  of  his  murderous  policy. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  243 

The  death  of  Nelson  was  felt  in  England  as  something  more 
than  a  public  calamity;  men  started  at  the  intelligence  and 
turned  pale,  as  if  they  had  heard  of  the  loss  of  a  dear  friend. 
An  object  of  our  admiration  and  affection,  of  our  pride  and  of 
our  hopes,  was  suddenly  taken  from  us ;  and  it  seemed  as  if 
we  had  never  till  then  known  how  deeply  we  loved  and  rever- 
enced him.  What  the  country  had  lost  in  its  great  naval  hero 
—  the  greatest  of  our  own  and  of  all  former  times  —  was 
scarcely  taken  into  the  account  of  grief.  So  perfectly  indeed 
had  he  performed  his  part,  that  the  maritime  war  after  the 
battle  of  Trafalgar  was  considered  at  an  end :  the  fleets  of  the 
enemy  were  not  merely  defeated,  but  destroyed;  new  navies 
must  be  built,  and  a  new  race  of  seamen  reared  for  them, 
before  the  possibility  of  their  invading  our  shores  could  again 
be  contemplated.  It  was  not,  therefore,  from  any  selfish 
reflection  upon  the  magnitude  of  our  loss  that  we  mourned 
for  him ;  the  general  sorrow  was  of  a  higher  character.  The 
people  of  England  grieved  that  funeral  ceremonies,  and  pub- 
lic monuments,  and  posthumous  rewards  were  all  which  they 
could  now  bestow  upon  him  whom  the  king,  the  legislature, 
and  the  nation  would  have  alike  delighted  to  honor ;  whom 
every  tongue  would  have  blessed;  whose  presence  in  every 
village  through  which  he  might  have  passed  would  have 
wakened  the  church  bells,  have  given  school-boys  a  holiday, 
have  drawn  children  from  their  sports  to  gaze  upon  him,  and 
"old  men  from  the  chimney  corner,"  to  look  upon  Nelson 
ere  they  died.  The  victory  of  Trafalgar  was  celebrated, 
indeed,  with  the  usual  forms  of  rejoicing,  but  they  were 
without  joy;  for  such  already  was  the  glory  of  the  British 
navy,  through  Nelson's  surpassing  genius,  that  it  scarcely 
seemed  to  receive  any  addition  from  the  most  signal  victory 
that  ever  was  achieved  upon  the  seas ;  and  the  destruction  of 
this  mighty  fleet,  by  which  all  the  maritime  schemes  of  France 


244  HOME  THOUGHTS  FROM  THE  SEA, 

were  totally  frustrated,  hardly  appeared  to  add  to  our  secur- 
ity; or  strength,  for  while  Nelson  was  living  to  watch  the  com- 
bined squadrons  of  the  enemy,  we  felt  ourselves  as  secure  as 
now,  when  they  were  no  longer  in  existence. 

He  cannot  be  said  to  have  fallen  prematurely  whose  work 
was  done,  nor  ought  he  to  be  lamented  who  died  so  full  of 
honors,  and  at  the  height  of  human  fame.  The  most  trium- 
phant death  is  that  of  the  martyr ;  the  most  awful  that  of  the 
martyred  patriot ;  the  most  splendid  that  of  the  hero  in  the 
hour  of  victory ;  and  if  the  chariot  and  the  horses  of  fire  had 
been  vouchsafed  for  Nelson's  translation,  he  could  scarcely 
have  departed  in  a  brighter  blaze  of  glory.  He  has  left  us, 
not  indeed  his  mantle  of  inspiration,  but  a  name  and  an  exam- 
ple which  are  at  this  hour  inspiring  hundreds  of  the  youth  of 
England  —  a  name  which  is  our  pride,  and  an  example  which 
will  continue  to  be  our  shield  and  our  strength.  Thus  it  is 
that  the  spirits  of  the  great  and  the  wise  continue  to  live  and 
to  act  after  them. 


HOME   THOUGHTS   FROM   THE  SEA. 
Robert  Browning. 

Nobly,  nobly  Cape  Saint  Vincent  to  the  North-west  died  away ; 

Sunset  ran,  one  glorious  blood-red,  reeking  into  Cadiz  Bay ; 

Bluish  'mid  the  burning  water,  full  in  face  Trafalgar  lay ; 

In  the  dimmest  North-east  distance  dawned  Gibraltar  grand 
and  gray; 

"  Here  and  here  did  England  help  me :  how  can  I  help  Eng- 
land ?  "  —  say, 

Whoso  turns  as  I,  this  evening,  turn  to  God  to  praise  and  pray, 

While  Jove's  planet  rises  yonder,  silent  over  Africa. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  245 

COLUMBUS. 

Arthur  Hugh  Clough. 

How  in  God^s  name  did  Columbus  get  over 

Is  a  pure  wonder  to  me,  I  protest, 
Cabot,  and  Ealeigh  too,  tbat  well-read  rover, 
Frobisber,  Dampier,  Drake,  and  the  rest. 

Bad  enough  all  tbe  same, 

For  them  that  after  came. 

But,  in  great  Heaven's  name, 

How  he  should  ever  think 

That  on  the  other  brink 
Of  this  wild  waste  terra  firma  should  be, 
Is  a  pure  wonder,  I  must  say,  to  me. 

Kow  a  man  ever  should  hope  to  get  thither. 

E'en  if  he  knew  that  there  was  another  side  5 
But  to  suppose  he  should  come  any  whither, 
Sailing  straight  on  into  chaos  untried, 

In  spite  of  the  motion 

Across  the  whole  ocean. 

To  stick  to  the  notion 

That  in  some  nook  or  bend 

Of  a  sea  without  end 
He  should  find  North  and  South  America, 
Was  a  pure  madness,  indeed  I  must  say,  to  me. 

What  if  wise  men  had,  as  far  back  as  Ptolemy, 
Judged  that  the  earth  like  an  orange  was  round. 


24b  COLUMBUS, 

None  of  them  ever  said,  Come  along,  follow  me, 
Sail  to  the  West,  and  the  East  will  be  found. 

Many  a  day  before 

Ever  they'd  come  ashore, 

Erom  the  ^  San  Salvador/ 

Sadder  and  wiser  men 

They'd  have  turned  back  again; 
And  that  he  did  not,  but  did  cross  the  sea, 
Is  a  pure  wonder,  I  must  say,  to  me. 


HELVELLYN. 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 


I  climb'd  the  dark  brow  of  the  mighty  Helvellyn,^ 

Lakes  and  mountains  beneath  me  gleam'd  misty  and  wide; 

All  was  still,  save  by  fits,  when  the  eagle  was  yelling,  • 
And  starting  around  me  the  echoes  replied. 

On  the  right,  Striden-edge  round  the  Redtarn  was  bending, 

And  Catchedicam  its  left  verge  was  defending. 

One  huge  nameless  rock  in  the  front  was  ascending. 
When  I  mark'd  the  sad  spot  where  the  wanderer  had  died. 

Dark  green  was  that  spot  'mid  the  brown  mountain-heather, 
Where  the  Pilgrim  of  Nature  lay  stretch'd  in  decay. 

Like  the  corpse  of  an  outcast  abandoned  to  weather. 
Till  the  mountain  winds  wasted  the  tenantless  clay. 

1  In  the  spring  of  1805,  a  young  gentleman  of  talents,  and  of  a  most  amiable 
disposition,  perislied  by  losing  his  way  on  the  mountain  Helvellyn.  His  re- 
mains were  not  discovered  till  three  months  afterwards,  when  they  were  found 
guarded  by  a  faithful  terrier,  his  constant  attendant  during  frequent  solitary 
rambles  through  the  wilds  of  Cumberland  and  Westmoreland. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  247 

Nor  yet  quite  deserted,  though  lonely  extended, 
For,  faithful  in  death,  his  mute  favorite  attended, 
The  much-loved  remains  of  her  master  defended, 
And  chased  the  hill-fox  and  the  raven  away. 

How  long  didst  thou  think  that  his  silence  was  slumber? 

When  the  wind  waved  his  garment,  how  oft  didst  thou 
start? 
How  many  long  days  and  long  weeks  didst  thou  number, 

Ere  he  faded  before  thee,  the  friend  of  thy  heart? 
And  oh!  was  it  meet,  that  —  no  requiem  read  o'er  him  — 
No  mother  to  weep,  and  no  friend  to  deplore  him, 
And  thou,  little  guardian,  alone  stretched  before  him  — 

Unhonor'd  the  Pilgrim  from  life  should  depart? 

When  a  Prince  to  the  fate  of  the  Peasant  has  yielded. 
The  tapestry  waves  dark  round  the  dim-lighted  hall; 

With  scutcheons  of  silver  the  coffin  is  shielded. 
And  pages  stand  mute  by  the  canopied  pall : 

Through  the  courts,  at  deep  midnight,  the  torches  are  gleam- 
ing; 

In  the  proudly-arch 'd  chapel  the  banners  are  beaming. 

Far  adown  the  long  aisle  sacred  music  is  streaming. 
Lamenting  a  Chief  of  the  people  should  fall. 

But  meeter  for  thee,  gentle  lover  of  nature. 

To  lay  down  thy  head  like  the  meek  mountain  lamb. 

When,  wilder'd,  he  drops  from  some  cliff  huge  in  stature, 
And  draws  his  last  sob  by  the  side  of  his  dam. 

And  more  stately  thy  couch  by  this  desert  lake  lying, 

Thy  obsequies  sung  by  the  gray  plover  flying, 

With  one  faithful  friend  but  to  witness  thy  dying. 
In  the  arms  of  Helvellyn  and  Catchedicam. 


248  JAFFAB, 


JAFFAR. 

Leigh  Hunt. 

Inscribed  to  the  Memory  of  Shelley. 

Shelley,  take  this  to  thy  dear  memory  :  — 
To  praise  the  generous,  is  to  think  of  thee. 

Jaffar,  the  Barmecide,  the  good  Vizier, 
The  poor  man's  hope,  the  friend  without  a  peer, 
Jaftar  was  dead,  slain  by  a  doom  unjust; 
And  guilty  Haroun,  sullen  with  mistrust 
Of  what  the  good  and  e'en  the  bad  might  say, 
Ordain' d  that  no  man  living  from  that  day 
Should  dare  to  speak  his  name  on  pain  of  death.  — 
All  Araby  and  Persia  held  their  breath. 

All  but  the  brave  Mondeer. —  He,  proud  to  show 
How  far  for  love  a  grateful  soul  could  go, 
And  facing  death  for  very  scorn  and  grief 
(For  his  great  heart  wanted  a  great  relief,) 
Stood  forth  in  Bagdad,  daily,  in  the  square 
Where  once  had  stood  a  happy  house ;  and  there 
Harangued  the  tremblers  at  the  scymitar 
On  all  they  owed  to  the  divine  Jaffar. 

"Bring  me  this  man,"  the  caliph  cried.     The  man 
Was  brought  —  was  gaz'd  upon.     The  mutes  began 
To  bind  his  arms.     "Welcome,  brave  cords!  "  cried  he; 
"  From  bonds  far  worse  Jaffar  deliver'd  me ; 
From  wants,  from  shames,  from  loveless  household  fears-, 
Made  a  man's  eyes  friends  with  delicious  tears; 
Restor'd  me  —  lov'd  me  —  put  me  on  a  par 
With  his  great  self.     How  can  I  pay  Jaffar?" 


THE   HEART    OF    OAK  BOOKS.  249 

Haroun,  wlio  felt,  that  on  a  soul  like  this 
The  mightiest  vengeance  could  but  fall  amiss, 
Now  deign'd  to  smile,  as  one  great  lord  of  fate 
Might  smile  upon  another  half  as  great. 
He  said,  "  Let  worth  grow  frenzied,  if  it  will ; 
The  caliph's  judgment  shall  be  master  still. 
Go :  and  since  gifts  thus  move  thee,  take  this  gem, 
The  richest  in  the  Tartar's  diadem, 
And  hold  the  giver  as  thou  deemest  fit." 

"  Gifts ! "  cried  the  friend.     He  took ;  and  holding  it 
High  tow'rds  the  heavens,  as  though  to  meet  his  star, 
Exclaim'd,  "  This,  too,  I  owe  to  thee,  Jaffar ! " 


BEGINNING  LIFE  IN  PHILADELPHIA:   THE 
DEFEAT   OF   GENERAL   BRADDOCK. 

From  the  Reprint  of  the  Original  MS.  of 
The  Autobiography  of  Benjamin  Franklin. 

I  HAVE  been  the  more  particular  in  this  description  of  my 
journey,  and  shall  be  so  of  my  first  entry  into  that  city,^  that 
you  may  in  your  mind  compare  such  unlikely  beginnings  ^ 
with  the  figure  I  have  since  made  there.  I  was  in  my  working 
dress,  my  best  clothes  being  to  come  round  by  sea.  I  was  dirty 
from  my  journey ;  my  pockets  were  stuff' d  out  with  shirts  and 
stockings,  and  I  knew  no  soul  nor  where  to  look  for  lodging. 
I  was  fatigued  with  travelling,  rowing,  and  want  of  rest ;  I  was 
very  hungry ;  and  my  whole  stock  of  cash  consisted  of  a  Dutch 
dollar,  and  about  a  shilling  in  copper.  The  latter  I  gave 
the  people  of  the  boat  for  my  passage,  who  at  first  refus'd  it, 

1  Philadelphia.  2  This  was  in  October,  1723. 


250  BEGINNING    LIFE   IN    PHILADELPHIA, 

on  account  of  my  rowing-;  but  I  insisted  on  their  taking  it 
A  man  being  sometimes  more  generous  when  lie  has  but  a  little 
money  "than  when  he  has  plenty,  perhaps  thro'  fear  of  being 
thought  to  have  but  little. 

Then  I  walked  up  the  street,  gazing  about  till  near  the  mar. 
ket-house  I  met  a  boy  with  bread.  I  had  made  many  a  meal 
on  bread,  and,  inquiring  where  he  got  it,  I  went  immediately 
to  the  baker's  he  directed  me  to,  in  Second-street,  and  ask'd 
for  bisket,  intending  such  as  we  had  in  Boston;  but  they,  it 
seems,  were  not  made  in  Philadelphia.  Then  I  asked  for  a 
three-penny  loaf,  and  was  told  they  had  none  such.  So  not 
considering  or  knowing  the  difference  of  money,  and  the  greater 
cheapness  nor  the  names  of  his  bread,  I  bade  him  give  me  three- 
penny worth  of  any  sort.  He  gave  me,  accordingly,  three  great 
puffy  rolls.  I  was  surpris'd  at  the  quantity,  but  took  it,  and, 
having  no  room  in  my  pockets,  walk'd  off  with  a  roll  under 
each  arm,  and  eating  the  other.  Thus  I  went  up  Market-street 
as  far  as  Fourth-street,  passing  by  the  door  of  Mr.  Eead,  my 
future  wife's  father ;  when  she,  standing  at  the  door,  saw  me, 
and  thought  I  made,  as  I  certainly  did,  a  most  awkward,  ridicu- 
lous appearance.  Then  I  turned  and  went  down  Chestnut- 
street  and  part  of  Walnut-street,  eating  my  roll  all  the  way, 
and,  coming  round,  found  myself  again  at  Market-street  wharf, 
near  the  boat  I  came  in,  to  which  I  went  for  a  draught  of  the 
river  water ;  and,  being  filled  with  one  of  my  rolls,  gave  the 
other  two  to  a  woman  and  her  child  that  came  down  the  river 
in  the  boat  with  us,  and  were  waiting  to  go  farther. 

Thus  refreshed,  I  walked  again  up  the  street,  which  by  this 
time  had  many  clean-dressed  people  in  it,  who  were  all  walk- 
ing the  same  way.  I  joined  them,  and  thereby  was  led  into 
the  great  meeting-house  of  the  Quakers  near  the  market.  I 
sat  down  among  them,  and,  after  looking  round  a  while  and 
hearing    nothing  said,  being  very  drowsy  thro'  labor   and 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  251 

want  of  rest  the  preceding  night,  I  fell  fast  asleep,  and  con- 
tinu'd  so  till  the  meeting  broke  up,  when  one  was  kind  enough 
to  rouse  me.  This  was,  therefore,  the  first  house  I  was  in,  or 
slept  in,  in  Philadelphia. 

Walking  down  again  toward  the  river,  and  looking  in  the 
faces  of  the  people,  I  met  a  young  Quaker  man  whose  counte- 
nance I  lik'd,  and,  accosting  him,  requested  he  would  tell  me 
where  a  stranger  could  get  lodging.  We  were  then  near  the 
sign  of  the  Three  Mariners.  "Here,"  says  he,  "is  one  place 
that  entertains  strangers,  but  it  is  not  a  reputable  house ;  if 
thee  wilt  walk  with  me,  I'll  show  thee  a  better."  He  brought 
me  to  the  Crooked  Billet,  in  Water-street.  Here  I  got  a  dinner, 
and,  while  I  was  eating  it,  several  sly  questions  were  asked  me, 
as  it  seemed  to  be  suspected,  from  my  youth  and  appearance, 
that  I  might  be  some  runaway. 

After  dinner,  my  sleepiness  returned,  and,  being  shown  to  a 
bed,  I  lay  down  without  undressing,  and  slept  till  six  in  the 
evening ;  was  calPd  to  supper,  went  to  bed  again  very  early, 
and  slept  soundly  till  next  morning.  Then  I  made  myself 
as  tidy  as  I  could,  and  went  to  Andrew  Bradford,  the  printer's. 
I  found  in  the  shop  the  old  man,  his  father,  whom  I  had  seen 
in  New  York,  and  who,  travelling  on  horseback,  had  got  to 
Philadelphia  before  me.  He  introduc'd  me  to  his  son,  who 
receiv'd  me  civilly,  gave  me  a  breakfast,  but  told  me  he  did 
not  at  present  want  a  hand,  being  lately  suppli'd  with  one; 
but  there  was  another  printer  in  town,  lately  set  up,  one 
Keimer,  who,  perhaps,  might  employ  me ;  if  not,  I  should  be 
welcome  to  lodge  at  his  house,  and  he  would  give  me  a  little 
work  to  do  now  and  then  till  fuller  business  should  offer. 

The  old  gentleman  said  he  would  go  with  me  to  the  new 
printer ;  and  when  we  found  him,  "  Neighbor,"  says  Bradford, 
"I  have  brought  to  see  you  a  young  man  of  your  business,- 
perhaps  you  may  want  such  a  one."    He  ask'd  me  a  few  ques- 


252  BEGINNING  LIFE  IN  PHILADELPHIA, 

tions,  put  a  composing  stick  in  my  hand  to  see  how  I  work'd, 
and  then  said  he  would  employ  me  soon,  though  he  had  just 
then  nothing  for  me  to  do ;  and  taking  old  Bradford,  whom 
he  had  never  seen  before,  to  be  one  of  the  townspeople  that 
had  a  good  will  for  him,  enter'd  into  a  conversation  on  his 
present  undertaking  and  prospects;  while  Bradford,  not  dis- 
covering that  he  was  the  other  printer's  father,  on  Keimer's 
saying  he  expected  soon  to  get  the  greatest  part  of  the  busi- 
ness into  his  own  hands,  drew  him  on  by  artful  questions,  and 
starting  little  doubts,  to  explain  all  his  views,  what  interest 
he  reli'd  on,  and  in  what  manner  he  intended  to  proceed.  I, 
who  stood  by  and  heard  all,  saw  immediately  that  one  of  them 
was  a  crafty  old  sophister,  and  the  other  a  mere  novice.  Brad- 
ford left  me  with  Keimer,  who  was  greatly  surpris'd  when  I 
told  him  who  the  old  man  was. 

Keimer's  printing-house,  I  found,  consisted  of  an  old  shat- 
ter'd  press,  and  one  small,  worn-out  font  of  English,  which  he 
was  then  using  himself,  composing  an  Elegy  on  Aquila  Rose, 
an  ingenious  young  man,  of  excellent  character,  much  respected 
in  the  town,  clerk  of  the  Assembly,  and  a  pretty  poet.  Keimer 
made  verses  too,  but  very  indifferently.  He  could  not  be  said 
to  write  them,  for  his  manner  was  to  compose  them  in  the 
types  directly  out  of  his  head.  So  there  being  no  copy,  but 
one  pair  of  cases,  and  the  Elegy  likely  to  require  all  the 
"letter,"  no  one  could  help  him.  I  endeavor'd  to  put  his 
press  (which  he  had  not  yet  us'd,  and  of  which  he  understood 
nothing)  into  order  fit  to  be  work'd  with ;  and,  promising  to 
come  and  print  off  his  Elegy  as  soon  as  he  should  have  got  it 
ready,  I  returned  to  Bradford's,  who  gave  me  a  little  job  to  do 
for  the  present,  and  there  I  lodged  and  dieted.  A  few  days 
after,  Keimer  sent  for  me  to  print  off  the  Elegy.  And  now  he 
had  got  another  pair  of  cases,  and  a  pamphlet  to  reprint,  on 
which  he  set  me  to  work. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  253 

These  two  printers  I  found  poorly  qualified  for  their  busi- 
ness. Bradford  had  not  been  bred  to  it,  and  was  very  illiter- 
ate; and  Keimer,  tho'  something  of  a  scholar,  was  a  mere 
compositor,  knowing  nothing  of  presswork.  He  had  been  one 
of  the  French  prophets,  and  could  act  their  enthusiastic  agita- 
tions. At  this  time  he  did  not  profess  any  particular  religion, 
but  something  of  all  on  occasion;  was  very  ignorant  of  the 
world,  and  had,  as  I  afterward  found,  a  good  deal  of  the 
knave  in  his  composition.  He  did  not  like  my  lodging  at 
Bradford's  while  I  worked  with  him.  He  had  a  house,  indeed, 
but  without  furniture,  so  he  could  not  lodge  me ;  but  he  got 
me  a  lodging  at  Mr.  Eead's,  before  mentioned,  who  was  the 
owner  of  his  house ;  and,  my  chest  and  clothes  being  come  by 
this  time,  I  made  rather  a  more  respectable  appearance  in  the 
eyes  of  Miss  Bead  than  I  had  done  when  she  first  happened 
to  see  me  eating  my  roll  in  the  street. 

I  began  now  to  have  some  acquaintance  among  the  young 
people  of  the  town,  that  were  lovers  of  reading,  with  whom  I 
spent  my  evenings  very  pleasantly;  and  gaining  money  by 
my  industry  and  frugality,  I  lived  very  agreeably,  forgetting 
Boston  as  much  as  I  could,  and  not  desiring  that  any  there 
should  know  where  I  resided,  except  my  friend  Collins,  who 
was  in  my  secret,  and  kept  it  when  I  wrote  to  him.  At  length, 
an  incident  happened  that  sent  me  back  again  much  sooner 
than  I  had  intended.  I  had  a  brother-in-law,  Kobert  Holmes, 
master  of  a  sloop  that  traded  between  Boston  and  Delaware. 
He  being  at  Newcastle,  forty  miles  below  Philadelphia,  heard 
there  of  me,  and  wrote  me  a  letter  mentioning  the  concern 
of  my  friends  in  Boston  at  my  abrupt  departure,  assuring  me 
of  their  goodwill  to  me,  and  that  everything  would  be  accom- 
modated to  my  mind  if  I  would  return,  to  which  he  exhorted  me 
very  earnestly.  I  wrote  an  answer  to  his  letter,  thank'd  him 
for  his  advice,  but  stated  my  reasons  for  quitting  Boston  fully 


254  ISEGINNING  LtFt:  IN  PBILADBLPBIA. 

and  in  such  a  light  as  to  convince  him  that  I  was  not  so  wrong 
as  Jie  had  apprehended. 

Sir  William  Keith,  governor  of  the  province,  was  then  at 
Newcastle,  and  Captain  Holmes,  happening  to  be  in  company 
with  him  when  my  letter  came  to  hand,  spoke  to  him  of  me, 
and  show'd  him  the  letter.  The  governor  read  it,  and  seem'd 
surpris'd  when  he  was  told  my  age.  He  said  I  appear'd  a 
young  man  of  .promising  parts,  and  therefore  should  be  encour- 
aged ;  the  printers  at  Philadelphia  were  wretched  ones ;  and, 
if  I  would  set  up  there,  he  made  no  doubt  I  should  succeed ; 
for  his  part,  he  would  procure  me  the  public  business,  and  do 
me  every  other  service  in  his  power.  This  my  brother-in-law 
afterwards  told  me  in  Boston,  but  I  knew  as  yet  nothing  of 
it ;  when,  one  day,  Keimer  and  I  being  at  work  together  near 
the  window,  we  saw  the  governor  and  another  gentleman 
(which  proved  to  be  Colonel  French,  of  Newcastle),  finely 
dress'd,  come  directly  across  the  street  to  our  house,  and  heard 
them  at  the  door. 

Keimer  ran  down  immediately,  thinking  it  a  visit  to  him ; 
but  the  Governor  inquired  for  me,  came  up,  and  with  a  con- 
descension and  politeness  T  had  been  quite  unused  to,  made 
me  many  compliments,  desired  to  be  acquainted  with  me,  blam'd 
me  kindly  for  not  having  made  myself  known  to  him  when  I 
first  came  to  the  place,  and  would  have  me  away  with  him  to 
the  tavern,  where  he  was  going  with  Colonel  French  to  taste, 
as  he  said,  some  excellent  Maderia.  I  was  not  a  little  sur- 
prised, and  Keimer  star'd  like  a  pig  poison'd.  I  went,  how- 
ever, with  the  governor  and  Colonel  French  to  a  tavern,  at  the 
corner  of  Third-street,  and  over  the  Maderia  he  proposed  my 
setting  up  my  business,  laid  before  me  the  probabilities  of 
success,  and  both  he  and  Colonel  French  assur'd  me  I  should 
have  their  interest  and  influence  in  procuring  the  public  busi- 
ness of  both  governments.    On  my  doubting  whether  my  father 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  255 

would  assist  me  in  it.  Sir  William  said  lie  would  give  me  a 
letter  to  him,  in  which  he  would  state  the  advantages,  and  he 
did  not  doubt  of  prevailing  with  him.  So  it  was  concluded  I 
should  return  to  Boston  in  the  first  vessel,  with  the  governor's 
letter  recommending  me  to  my  father.  In  the  meantime  the 
intention  was  to  be  kept  a  secret,  and  I  went  on  working  with 
Keimer  as  usual,  the  governor  sending  for  me  now  and  then 
to  dine  with  him,  a  very  great  honor  I  thought  it,  and  convers- 
ing with  me  in  the  most  affable,  familiar,  and  friendly  manner 
imaginable. 

About  the  end  of  April,  1724,  a  little  vessel  offered  for 
Boston.  I  took  leave  of  Keimer  as  going  to  see  my  friends. 
The  governor  gave  me  an  ample  letter,  saying  many  flattering 
things  of  me  to  my  father,  and  strongly  recommending  the 
project  of  my  setting  up  at  Philadelphia  as  a  thing  that  must 
make  my  fortune.  We  struck  on  a  shoal  in  going  down  the 
bay,  and  sprung  a  leak ;  we  had  a  blustering  time  at  sea,  and 
were  oblig'd  to  pump  almost  continually,  at  which  I  took  my 
turn.  We  arriv'd  safe,  however,  at  Boston  in  about  a  fort- 
night. I  had  been  absent  seven  months,  and  my  friends  had 
heard  nothing  of  me;  for  my  brother  Holmes  was  not  yet 
returned,  and  had  not  written  about  me.  My  unexpected 
appearance  surprised  the  family ;  all  were,  however,  very  glad 
to  see  me,  and  made  me  welcome,  except  my  brother.  I  went 
to  see  him  at  his  printing-house.  I  was  better  dress'd  than 
ever  while  in  his  service,  having  a  genteel  new  suit  from  head 
to  foot,  a  watch,  and  my  pockets  lin'd  with  near  five  pounds 
sterling  in  silver.  He  received  me  not  very  frankly,  look'd 
me  all  over,  and  turn'd  to  his  work  again. 

The  journeymen  were  inquisitive  where  I  had  been,  what 
sort  of  a  country  it  was,  and  how  I  lik'd  it.  I  prais'd  it 
much,  and  the  happy  life  I  led  in  it,  expressing  strongly  my 
intention  of  returning  to  it ;  and,  one  of  them  asking  what 


256  BEGIN]!^ING  LIFE  IN  PHILADELPHIA. 

kind  of  money  we  had  there,  I  produc'd  a  handful  of  silver, 
and  spread  it  before  them,  which  was  a  kind  of  raree-show 
they  had  not  been  us'd  to,  paper  being  the  money  of  Boston. 
Then  I  took  an  opportunity  of  letting  them  see  my  watch; 
and  lastly  (my  brother  still  grum  and  sullen),  I  gave  them  a 
piece  of  eight  to  drink,  and  took  my  leave.  This  visit  of  mine 
offended  him  extremely ;  for,  when  my  mother  some  time  after 
spoke  to  him  of  a  reconciliation,  and  of  her  wishes  to  see  us 
on  good  terms  together,  and  that  we  might  live  for  the  future 
as  brothers,  he  said  I  had  insulted  him  in  such  a  manner 
before  his  people  that  he  could  never  forget  or  forgive  it. 
In  this,  however,  he  was  mistaken. 

My  father  received  the  governor's  letter  with  some  apparent 
surprise,  but  said  little  of  it  to  me  for  some  days,  when  Capt. 
Holmes  returning,  he  show'd  it  to  him,  and  ask'd  him  if  he  knew 
Keith,  and  what  kind  of  man  he  was ;  adding  his  opinion  that 
'he  must  be  of  small  discretion  to  think  of  setting  a  boy  up  in 
business  who  wanted  yet  three  years  of  being  at  man's  estate. 
Holmes  said  what  he  could  in  favor  of  the  project,  but  my 
father  was  clear  in  the  impropriety  of  it,  and  at  last  gave  a  flat 
denial  to  it.  Then  he  wrote  a  civil  letter  to  Sir  William, 
thanking  him  for  the  patronage  he  had  so  kindly  offered  me, 
but  declining  to  assist  me  as  yet  in  setting  up,  I  being,  in  his 
opinion,  too  young  to  be  trusted  with  the  management  of  a  busi- 
ness so  important,  and  for  which  the  preparation  must  be  so 
expensive. 

My  friend  and  companion  Collins,  who  was  a  clerk  in  the 
post-office,  pleas'd  with  the  account  I  gave  him  of  my  new 
country,  determined  to  go  thither  also;  and,  while  I  waited 
for  my  father's  determination,  he  set  out  before  me  by  land  to 
Rhode  Island,  leaving  his  books,  which  were  a  pretty  collec- 
tion of  mathematics  and  natural  philosophy,  to  come  with 
mine  and  me  to  New  York,  where  he  proposed  to  wait  for  me. 


r  > 

r   s 

5 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  257 

My  father,  tho'  lie  did  not  approve  Sir  William's  proposi- 
tion,  was  yet  pleas'd  that  I  had  been  able  to  obtain  so  advan- 
tageous a  character  from  a  person  of  such  note  where  I  had 
resided,  and  that  I  had  been  so  industrious  and  careful  as  to 
equip  myself  so  handsomely  in  so  short  a  time ;  therefore,  see- 
ing no  prospect  of  an  accommodation  between  my  brother  and 
me,  he  gave  his  consent  to  my  returning  again  to  Philadelphia, 
advis'd  me  to  behave  respectfully  to  the  people  there,  endeavor 
to  obtain  the  general  esteem,  and  avoid  lampooning  and  libel- 
ling, to  which  he  thought  I  had  too  much  inclination ;  telling 
me,  that  by  steady  industry  and  a  prudent  parsimony  I  might 
save  enough  by  the  time  I  was  one-and-twenty  to  set  me  up ; 
and  that,  if  I  came  near  the  matter,  he  would  help  me  out 
with  the  rest.  This  was  all  I  could  obtain,  except  some  small 
gifts  as  tokens  of  his  and  my  mother's  love,  when  I  embark'd 
again  for  New  York,  now  with  their  approbation  and  their 
blessing. 

The  sloop  putting  in  at  Newport,  Ehode  Island,  I  visited  my 
brother  John,  who  had  been  married  and  settled  there  some 
years.  He  received  me  very  affectionately,  for  he  always  lov'd 
me.  A  friend  of  his,  one  Vernon,  having  some  money  due  to 
him  in  Pennsylvania,  about  thirty-five  pounds  currency,  desired 
I  would  receive  it  for  him,  and  keep  it  till  I  had  his  directions 
what  to  remit  it  in.  Accordingly  he  gave  me  an  order.  This 
afterwards  occasioned  me  a  good  deal  of  uneasiness. 

At  New  York  I  found  my  friend  Collins,  who  had  arrived 
there  some  time  before  me.  We  had  been  intimate  from  chil- 
dren, and  had  read  the  same  books  together ;  but  he  had  the 
advantage  of  more  time  for  reading  and  studying,  and  a  won- 
derful genius  for  mathematical  learning,  in  which  he  far  out- 
stript  me.  While  I  liv'd  in  Boston,  most  of  my  hours  of 
leisure  for  conversation  were  spent  with  him,  and  he  continued 


258  BEGINNING  LIFE  IN  PHILADELPBIA, 

a  sober  as  well  as  an  industrious  lad,  was  mucli  respected  for 
his  learning  by  several  of  the  clergy  and  other  gentlemen,  and 
seemed  to  promise  making  a  good  figure  in  life.  But,  during 
my  absence  he  had  acquired  a  habit  of  sotting  with  brandy ; 
and  I  found  by  his  own  account,  and  what  I  heard  from  others, 
that  he  had  been  drunk  every  day  since  his  arrival  at  'New 
York,  and  behav'd  very  oddly.  He  had  gam'd,  too,  and  lost 
his  money,  so  that  I  was  oblig'd  to  discharge  his  lodgings, 
and  defray  his  expenses  to  and  at  Philadelphia,  which  proved 
extremely  inconvenient  to  me; 

The  then  governor  of  New  York,  Burnet  (son  of  Bishop 
Burnet),  hearing  from  the  captain  that  a  young  man,  one  of 
his  passengers,  had  a  great  many  books,  desir'd  he  would  bring 
me  to  see  him.  I  waited  upon  him  accordingly,  and  should  have 
taken  Collins  with  me,  but  that  he  was  not  sober.  The  gover- 
nor treated  me  with  great  civility,  showed  me  his  library,  which 
was  a  very  large  one,  and  we  had  a  good  deal  of  conversation 
about  books  and  authors.  This  was  the  second  governor  who 
had  done  me  the  honor  to  take  notice  of  me,  which,  to  a  poor 
boy  like  me,  was  very  pleasing. 

We  proceeded  to  Philadelphia.  I  received  on  the  way  Ver- 
non^s  money,  without  which  we  could  hardly  have  finished  our 
journey.  Collins  wished  to  be  employed  in  some  counting- 
house,  but,  whether  they  discover'd  his  dramming  by  his 
breath,  or  by  his  behavior,  tho'  he  had  some  recommendar 
tions,  he  met  with  no  success  in  any  application,  and  con- 
tinued lodging  and  boarding  at  the  same  house  with  me,  and 
at  my  expense.  Knowing  I  had  that  money  of  Vernon's,  he 
was  continually  borrowing  of  me,  still  promising  repayment 
as  soon  as  he  should  be  in  business.  At  length  he  had  got 
so  much  of  it,  that  I  was  distress'd  to  think  what  I  should  do 
in  case  of  being  calFd  on  to  remit  it. 

His  drinking  continued,  about  which  we  sometimes  quarrelPd, 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  259 

for,  when  a  little  intoxicated,  he  was  very  fractious.  Once,  in 
a  boat  on  the  Delaware  with  some  other  young  men,  he  refused 
to  row  in  his  turn.  "I  will  be  row'd  home,"  says  he.  "We 
will  not  row  you,"  says  I.  "  You  must,  or  stay  all  night  on 
the  water,"  says  he,  "just  as  you  please."  The  others  said: 
"  Let  us  row ;  what  signifies  it  ?  "  But,  my  mind  being  soured 
with  his  other  conduct,  I  continu'd  to  refuse.  So  he  swore  he 
would  make  me  row,  or  throw  me  overboard ;  and  coming  along 
stepping  on  the  thwarts,  toward  me,  when  he  came  up  and 
struck  at  me,  I  clapped  my  hand  under  his  crutch,  and  rising, 
pitched  him  head-foremost  into  the  river.  I  knew  he  was  a 
good  swimmer,  and  so  was  under  little  concern  about  him ;  but 
before  he  could  get  round  to  lay  hold  of  the  boat,  we  had,  with 
a  few  strokes,  pulPd  her  out  of  his  reach ;  and  ever  when  he 
drew  near  the  boat,  we  ask^d  if  he  would  row,  striking  a  few 
strokes  to  slide  her  away  from  him.  He  was  ready  to  die  with 
vexation,  and  obstinately  would  not  promise  to  row.  However^ 
seeing  him  at  last  beginning  to  tire,  we  lifted  him  in,  and  brought 
him  home  dripping  wet  in  the  evening.  We  hardly  exchang'd 
a  civil  word  afterwards,  and  a  West  India  captain,  who  had  a 
commission  to  procure  a  tutor  for  the  sons  of  a  gentleman  at 
Barbadoes,  happening  to  meet  with  him,  agreed  to  carry  him 
thither.  He  left  me  then,  promising  to  remit  me  the  first 
money  he  should  receive,  in  order  to  discharge  the  debt,  but  I 
never  heard  of  him  after. 

The  breaking  into  this  money  of  Vernon's  was  one  of  the 
first  great  errata  of  my  life,  and  this  affair  show'd  that  my 
father  was  not  much  out  in  his  judgment  when  he  suppos'd 
me  too  young  to  manage  business  of  importance.  But  Sir 
William,  on  reading  his  letter,  said  he  was  too  prudent.  There 
was  a  great  difference  in  persons,  and  discretion  did  not 
always  accompany  years,  nor  was  youth  always  without  it. 
"And  since  he  will  not  set  you  up,"  says  he,  "I  will  do  it  my- 


260  BEGINNING  LIFE  IN  PHILADELPHIA. 

self.  Give  me  an  inventory  of  the  things  necessary  to  be  had 
from  England,  and  I  will  send  for  them.  You  shall  repay  me 
when  you  are  able ;  I  am  resolv'd  to  have  a  good  printer  here, 
and  I  am  sure  you  must  succeed."  This  was  spoken  with  such 
an  appearance  of  cordiality,  that  I  had  not  the  least  doubt  of 
his  meaning  what  he  said.  I  had  hitherto  kept  the  proposi- 
tion of  my  setting  up  a  secret  in  Philadelphia,  and  I  still  kept 
it.  Had  it  been  known  that  I  depended  on  the  Governor, 
probably  some  friend  that  knew  him  better  would  have  advis'd 
me  not  to  rely  on  him,  as  I  afterwards  heard  it  as  his  known 
character  to  be  liberal  of  promises  which  he  never  meant  to 
keep.  Yet,  unsolicited  as  he  was  by  me,  how  could  I  think 
his  generous  offers  insincere  ?  I  believ'd  him  one  of  the  best 
men  in  the  world. 

I  presented  him  an  inventory  of  a  little  printing-house, 
amounting,  by  my  computation,  to  about  one  hundred  pounds 
sterling.  He  lik'd  it,  but  ask'd  me  if  my  being  on  the  spot 
in  England  to  choose  the  types,  and  see  that  everything  was 
good  of  the  kind,  might  not  be  of  some  advantage.  "  Then," 
says  he,  "  when  there,  you  may  make  acquaintances,  and  estab- 
lish correspondences  in  the  bookselling  and  stationery  way." 
I  agreed  that  this  might  be  advantageous.  "Then,"  says  he, 
"  get  yourself  ready  to  go  with  Annis ; "  which  was  the  annual 
ship,  and  the  only  one  at  that  time  usually  passing  between 
London  and  Philadelphia.  But  it  would  be  some  months 
before  Annis  sail'd,  so  I  continu'd  working  with  Keimer,  fret- 
ting about  the  money  Collins  had  got  from  me,  and  in  daily 
apprehensions  of  being  calPd  upon  by  Vernon,  which,  however, 
did  not  happen  for  some  years  after.     .     .     . 

The  governor,  seeming  to  like  my  company,  had  me  fre- 
quently to  his  house,  and  his  setting  me  up  was  always 
mention'd  as  a  fixed  thing.  I  was  to  take  with  me  letters 
recommendatory  to  a  number  of  his  friends,  besides  the  letter 


TBE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  261 

of  credit  to  furnish  me  with  the  necessary  money  for  pur- 
chasing the  press  and  types,  paper,  etc.  For  these  letters  I 
was  appointed  to  call  at  different  times,  when  they  were  to  be 
ready;  but  a  future  time  was  still  named.  Thus  he  went 
on  till  the  ship,  whose  departure  too  had  been  several  times 
postponed,  was  on  the  point  of  sailing.  Then,  when  I  calPd 
to  take  my  leave  and  receive  the  letters,  his  secretary.  Dr. 
Bard,  came  out  to  me  and  said  the  governor  was  extremely 
busy  in  writing,  but  would  be  down  at  Newcastle  before  the 
ship,  and  there  the  letters  would  be  delivered  to  me.  .  .  . 

Having  taken  leave  of  my  friends,  and  interchanged  some 
promises  with  Miss  Read,  I  left  Philadelphia  in  the  ship,  which 
anchored  at  Newcastle.  The  governor  was  there ;  but  when 
I  went  to  his  lodging,  the  secretary  came  to  me  from  him  with 
the  civillest  message  in  the  world,  that  he  could  not  then  see 
me,  being  engaged  in  business  of  the  utmost  importance,  but 
should  send  the  letters  to  me  on  board,  wish'd  me  heartily  a 
good  voyage  and  a  speedy  return,  etc.  I  returned  on  board  a 
little  puzzled,  but  still  not  doubting.  .  .  . 

Understanding  that  Colonel  French  had  brought  on  board 
the  governor's  despatches,  I  ask'd  the  captain  for  those  letters 
that  were  to  be  under  my  care.  He  said  all  were  put  into  the 
bag  together  and  he  could  not  then  come  at  them ;  but,  before 
we  landed  in  England,  I  should  have  an  opportunity  of  pick- 
ing them  out ;  so  I  was  satisfied  for  the  present,  and  we  pro- 
ceeded on  our  voyage.  We  had  a  sociable  company  in  the 
cabin,  and  lived  uncommonly  well.  In  this  passage  Mr.  Den- 
ham  contracted  a  friendship  for  me  that  continued  during  his 
life.  The  voyage  was  otherwise  not  a  pleasant  one,  as  we  had 
a  great  deal  of  bad  weather. 

When  we  came  into  the  channel,  the  captain  kept  his  word 
with  me,  and  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  examining  the  bag  for 
the  governor's  letters.      I  found  none  upon  which  my  name 


262  BEGINNING  LIFE  IN  PHILADELPHIA, 

was  put  as  under  my  care.  I  picked  out  six  or  seven,  that, 
by  the  handwriting,  I  thought  might  be  the  promised  letters, 
especially  as  one  of  them  was  directed  to  Basket,  the  king's 
printer,  and  another  to  some  stationer.  We  arrived  in  London 
on  the  24th  of  December,  1724.  I  waited  upon  the  stationer,  who 
came  first  in  my  way,  delivering  the  letter  as  from  Governor 
Keith.  "  I  don't  know  such  a  person,"  says  he  ;  but,  opening 
the  letter,  "  Oh  !  this  is  from  Eiddlesden.  I  have  lately  found 
him  to  be  a  complete  rascal,  and  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him,  nor  receive  any  letters  from  him."  So,  putting  the  letter 
into  my  hand,  he  turn'd  on  his  heel  and  left  me  to  serve  some 
customer.  I  was  surprised  to  find  these  were  not  the  gov- 
ernor's letters ;  and,  after  recollecting  and  comparing  circum- 
stances, I  began  to  doubt  his  sincerity.  I  found  my  friend 
Denham,  and  opened  the  whole  affair  to  him.  He  let  me  into 
Keith's  character ;  told  me  there  was  not  the  least  probability 
that  he  had  written  any  letters  for  me ;  that  no  one,  who  knew 
him,  had  the  smallest  dependence  on  him ;  and  he  laught  at 
the  notion  of  the  Governor's  giving  me  a  letter  of  credit,  hav- 
ing, as  he  said,  no  credit  to  give.  On  my  expressing  some 
concern  about  what  I  should  do,  he  advised  me  to  endeavor 
getting  some  employment  in  the  way  of  my  business.  "  Among 
the  printers  here,"  said  he,  "  you  will  improve  yourself,  and  when 
you  return  to  America,  you  will  set  up  to  greater  advantage."  .  .  . 
But  what  shall  we  think  of  a  governor's  playing  such  pitiful 
tricks,  and  imposing  so  grossly  on  a  poor  ignorant  boy!  It 
was  a  habit  he  had  acquired.  He  wish'd  to  please  everybody ; 
and,  having  little  to  give,  he  gave  expectations.  He  was  other- 
wise an  ingenious,  sensible  man,  a  pretty  good  writer,  and  a 
good  governor  for  the  people,  tho'  not  for  his  constituents, 
the  proprietaries,  whose  instructions  he  sometimes  disregarded. 
Several  of  our  best  laws  were  of  his  planning  and  passed  dur- 
ing his  administration. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  263 

The  British  government,  not  choosing  to  permit  the  union 
of  the  colonies  as  propos'd  at  Albany,  and  to  trust  that  union 
with  their  defence,  lest  they  should  thereby  grow  too  military 
and  feel  their  own  strength,  suspicions  and  jealousies  at  this 
time  being  entertained  of  them,  sent  over  General  Braddock 
with  two  regiments  of  regular  English  troops  for  that  pur- 
pose. He  landed^  at  Alexandria,  in  Virginia,  and  thence 
march'd  to  Frederictown,  in  Maryland,  where  he  halted  for 
carriages.  Our  Assembly  apprehending  from  some  informa- 
tion that  he  had  conceived  violent  prejudices  against  them,  as 
averse  to  the  service,  wish'd  me  to  wait  upon  him,  not  as 
from  them  but  as  postmaster-general,  under  the  guise  of 
proposing  to  settle  with  him  the  mode  of  conducting  with 
most  celerity  and  certainty  the  despatches  between  him  and 
the  governors  of  the  several  provinces  with  whom  he  must 
necessarily  have  continual  correspondence  and  of  which  they 
propos'd  to  pay  the  expense.  My  son  accompanied  me  on  this 
journey. 

We  found  the  general  at  Frederictown,  waiting  impatiently 
for  the  return  of  those  he  had  sent  thro'  the  back  parts  of 
Maryland  and  Virginia  to  collect  wagons.  I  stayed  with  him 
several  days,  din'd  with  him  daily,  and  had  full  opportunity  of 
removing  all  his  prejudices  by  the  information  of  what  the 
Assembly  had  before  his  arrival  actually  done  and  were  still 
willing  to  do  to  facilitate  his  operations.  When  I  was  about 
to  depart,  the  returns  of  wagons  to  be  obtained  were  brought 
in,  by  which  it  appear'd  that  they  amounted  only  to  twenty- 
five  and  not  all  of  those  were  in  serviceable  condition.  The 
general  and  all  the  officers  were  surpris'd,  declar'd  the  expe- 
dition was  then  at  an  end,  being  impossible;  and  exclaim'd 
against  the  ministers  for  ignorantly  landing  them  in  a  coun- 

« 1755. 


264     THE  DEFEAT  OF  GENERAL  BRADDOCK. 

try  destitute  of  the  means  of  conveying  their  stores,  baggage, 
etc.,  not  less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  wagons  being  neces- 
sary. 

I  happen'd  to  say,  I  thought  it  was  a  pity  they  had  not  been 
landed  rather  in  Pennsylvania,  as  in  that  country  almost  every 
farmer  had  his  wagon.  The  general  eagerly  laid  hold  of  my 
words,  and  said :  "  Then  you,  sir,  who  are  a  man  of  interest 
there,  can  probably  procure  them  for  us,  and  I  beg  you  will 
undertake  it."  I  ask'd  what  terms  were  to  be  offer'd  the 
owners  of  the  wagons,  and  I  was  desir'd  to  put  on  paper  the 
terms  that  appeared  to  me  necessary.  This  I  did  and  they 
were  agreed  to,  and  a  commission  and  instructions  accordingly 
prepar'd  immediately.  .  .  . 

This  general  was,  I  think,  a  brave  man  and  might  probably 
have  made  a  figure  as  a  good  officer  in  some  European  war. 
But  he  had  too  much  self-confidence,  too  high  an  opinion  of 
the  validity  of  regular  troops,  and  too  mean  a  one  of  both 
Americans  and  Indians.  George  Croghan,  our  Indian  inter- 
preter, join'd  him  on  his  march  with  one  hundred  of  those 
people  who  might  have  been  of  great  use  to  his  army  as  guides, 
scouts,  etc.,  if  he  had  treated  them  kindly,  but  he  slighted 
and  neglected  them,  and  they  gradually  left  him. 

In  conversation  with  him  one  day,  he  was  giving  me  some 
account  of  his  intended  progress.  "After  taking  Fort  Du- 
quesne,"  says  he,  "I  am  to  proceed  to  Niagara,  and,  having 
taken  that,  to  Frontenac,  if  the  season  will  allow  time ;  and 
I  suppose  it  will,  for  Duquesne  can  hardly  detain  me  above 
three  or  four  days,  and  then  I  see  nothing  that  can  obstruct 
my  march  to  Niagara."  Having  before  revolved  in  my  mind 
the  long  line  his  army  must  make  in  their  march  by  a  very 
narrow  road  to  be  cut  for  them  thro'  the  woods  and  bushes, 
and  also  what  I  had  read  of  a  former  defeat  of  fifteen  hundred 
French  who  invaded  the  Iroquois  country,  I  had  conceived 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  265 

some  doubts  and  some  fears  for  the  event  of  the  campaign. 
But  I  ventur'd  only  to  say :  "  To  be  sure,  sir,  if  yo'u  arrive  well 
before  Duquesne  with  these  fine  troops,  so  well  provided  with 
artillery,  that  place,  not  yet  completely  fortified,  and  as  we  hear 
with  no  very  strong  garrison,  can  probably  make  but  a  short 
resistance.  The  only  danger  I  apprehend  of  obstruction  to  your 
march  is  from  the  ambuscades  of  the  Indians,  who,  by  con- 
stant practice,  are  dexterous  in  laying  and  executing  them ; 
and  the  slender  line,  near  four  miles  long,  which  your  army 
must  make,  may  expose  it  to  be  attack'd  by  surprise  in  its 
flanks,  and  to  be  cut  like  a  thread  into  several  pieces,  which, 
from  their  distance,  can  not  come  up  in  time  to  support  each 
other." 

He  smil'd  at  my  ignorance  and  reply'd:  "These  savages 
may,  indeed,  be  a  formidable  enemy  to  your  raw  American 
militia,  but  upon  the  king's  regular  and  disciplined  troops, 
sir,  it  is  impossible  they  should  make  any  impression."  I  was 
conscious  of  an  impropriety  in  my  disputing  with  a  military 
man  in  matters  of  his  profession,  and  said  no  more.  The 
enemy,  however,  did  not  take  the  advantage  of  his  army 
which  I  apprehended  its  long  line  of  march  expos 'd  it  to,  but 
let  it  advance  without  interruption  till  within  nine  miles  of  the 
place,  and  then,  when  more  in  a  body  (for  it  had  just  pass'd 
a  river,  where  the  front  had  halted  till  all  were  come  over), 
and  in  a  more  open  part  of  the  woods  than  any  it  had  pass'd, 
attack'd  its  advanced  guard  by  a  heavy  fire  from  behind  trees 
and  bushes,  which  was  the  first  intelligence  the  general  had  of 
an  enemy's  being  near  him.  This  guard  being  disordered,  the 
general  hurried  the  troops  up  to  their  assistance,  which  was 
done  in  great  confusion  thro'  wagons,  baggage,  and  cattle ;  and 
presently  the  fire  came  upon  their  flank :  the  officers,  being  on 
horseback,  were  more  easily  distinguish' d,  pick'd  out  as  marks, 
and  fell  very  fast ;  and  the  soldiers  were  crowded  together  in 


266     THE  DEFEAT  OF  GENERAL  BRADBOCK. 

a  huddle,  having  or  hearing  no  orders,  and  standing  to  be  shot 
at  till  two-thirds  of  them  were  killed,  and  then,  being  seiz'd 
with  a  panic,  the  whole  fled  with  precipitation. 

The  wagoners  took  each  a  horse  out  of  his  team  and  scam- 
per'd ;  their  example  was  immediately  followed  by  others, 
so  that  all  the  wagons,  provisions,  artillery,  and  stores,  were 
left  to  the  enemy.  The  general,  being  wounded,  was  brought 
off  with  difficulty ;  his  secretary,  Mr.  Shirley,  was  killed  by 
his  side,  and  out  of  eighty-six  officers,  sixty-three  were  killed 
or  wounded,  and  seven  hundred  and  fourteen  men  killed  out 
of  eleven  hundred.  These  eleven  hundred  had  been  picked 
men  from  the  whole  army ;  the  rest  had  been  left  behind  with 
Colonel  Dunbar,  who  was  to  follow  with  the  heavier  part  of 
the  stores,  provisions,  and  baggage.  The  flyers,  not  being 
pursu'd,  arriv'd  at  Dunbar's  camp,  and  the  panic  they  brought 
with  them  instantly  seiz'd  him  and  all  his  people,  and,  tho' 
he  had  now  above  one  thousand  men,  and  the  enemy  who  had 
beaten  Braddock  did  not  at  most  exceed  four  hundred  Indians 
and  French  together,  instead  of  proceeding  and  endeavoring  to 
recover  some  of  the  lost  honor,  he  ordered  all  the  stores,  ammu- 
nition, etc.,  to  be  destroyed,  that  he  might  have  more  horses  to 
assist  his  flight  towards  the  settlements  and  less  lumber  to 
remove.  He  was  there  met  with  requests  from  the  governors 
of  Virginia,  Maryland,  and  Pennsylvania,  that  he  would  post 
his  troops  on  the  frontiers,  so  as  to  afford  some  protection  to 
the  inhabitants ;  but  he  continu'd  his  hasty  march  thro'  all  the 
country,  not  thinking  himself  safe  till  he  arriv'd  at  Philadel- 
phia, where  the  inhabitants  could  protect  him.  This  whole 
transaction  gave  us  Americans  the  first  suspicion  that  our 
exalted  ideas  of  the  prowess  of  British  regulars  had  not  been 
well  founded. 

In  their  first  march,  too,  from  their  landing  till  they  got 
beyond  the  settlements,  they  had  plundered  and  stripped  the 


THE  HEAET  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  267 

inhabitants,  totally  ruining  some  poor  families,  besides  insult- 
ing, abusing,  and  confining  the  people,  if  they  remonstrated. 
This  was  enough  to  put  us  out  of  conceit  of  such  defenders  if 
we  had  really  wanted  any.  How  different  was  the  conduct  of 
our  French  friends  in  1781,  who,  during  a  march  thro'  the  most 
inhabited  part  of  our  country  from  Rhode  Island  to  Virginia, 
near  seven  hundred  miles,  occasioned  not  the  smallest  com- 
plaint for  the  loss  of  a  pig,  a  chicken,  or  even  an  apple. 

Captain  Orme,  who  was  one  of  the  general's  aides-de-camp, 
and,  being  grievously  wounded,  was  brought  off  with  him,  and 
continu'd  with  him  to  his  death,  which  happen'd  in  a  few  days, 
told  me  that  he  was  totally  silent  all  the  first  day,  and  at 
night  only  said,  "  Who  would  have  thought  it  1 "  That  he  was 
silent  again  the  following  day,  saying  only  at  last,  "  We  shall 
better  know  how  to  deal  with  them  another  time  j "  and  died  in  a 
few  minutes  after. 

The  secretary's  papers,  with  all  the  general's  orders,  instruc- 
tions, and  correspondence,  falling  into  the  enemy's  hands,  they 
selected  and  translated  into  French  a  number  of  the  articles 
which  they  printed,  to  prove  the  hostile  intentions  of  the 
British  court  before  the  declaration  of  war.  Among  these  I 
saw  some  letters  of  the  general  to  the  ministry  speaking 
highly  of  the  great  service  I  had  rendered  the  army,  and 
recommending  me  to  their  notice.  David  Hume,  too,  who 
was  some  years  after  secretary  to  Lord  Hertford  when  minis- 
ter in  France  and  afterward  to  General  Conway  when  secre- 
tary of  state,  told  me  he  had  seen  among  the  papers  in  that 
office,  letters  from  Braddock  highly  recommending  me.  But, 
the  expedition  having  been  unfortunate,  my  service,  it  seems, 
was  not  thought  of  much  value,  for  those  recommendations 
were  never  of  any  use  to  me. 

As  to  rewards  from  himself,  I  ask'd  only  one,  which  was, 
that  he  would  give  orders  to  his  officers  not  to  enlist  any  more 


268     THE  DEFEAT  OF  GENERAL  BRADDOCK, 

of  our  bought  servants,  and  that  he  would  discharge  such  as 
had  been  already  enlisted.  This  he  readily  granted  and  sev- 
eral were  accordingly  return'd  to  their  masters,  on  my  applica- 
tion. Dunbar,  when  the  command  devolv'd  on  him,  was  not 
so  generous.  He  being  at  Philadelphia  on  his  retreat,  or 
rather  flight,  I  apply'd  to  him  for  the  discharge  of  the  ser- 
vants of  three  poor  farmers  of  Lancaster  county  that  he  had 
enlisted,  reminding  him  of  the  late  general's  orders  on  that 
head.  He  promised  me  that,  if  the  masters  would  come  to 
him  at  Trenton,  where  he  should  be  in  a  few  days  on  his 
march  to  New  York,  he  would  there  deliver  their  men  to 
them.  They  accordingly  were  at  the  expense  and  trouble  of 
going  to  Trenton,  and  there  he  refus'd  to  perform  his  promise, 
to  their  great  loss  and  disappointment. 

As  soon  as  the  loss  of  the  wagons  and  horses  was  generally 
known,  all  the  owners  came  upon  me  for  the  valuation  which 
I  had  given  bond  to  pay.  Their  demands  gave  me  a  great 
deal  of  trouble,  my  acquainting  them  that  the  money  was 
ready  in  the  paymaster's  hands,  but  that  orders  for  paying  it 
must  first  be  obtained  from  General  Shirley,  and  my  assuring 
them  that  I  had  apply'd  to  that  general  by  letter ;  but,  he  being 
at  a  distance,  an  answer  could  not  soon  be  receiv'd,  and  they 
must  have  patience,  all  this  was  not  sufficient  to  satisfy,  and 
some  began  to  sue  me.  General  Shirley  at  length  relieved 
me  from  this  terrible  situation  by  appointing  commissioners 
to  examine  the  claims,  and  ordering  payment.  They  amounted 
to  near  twenty  thousand  pounds,  which  to  pay  would  have 
ruined  me. 

Before  we  had  the  news  of  this  defeat,  the  two  Doctors 
Bond  came  to  me  with  a  subscription  paper  for  raising  money 
to  defray  the  expense  of  a  grand  firework  which  it  was  in- 
tended to  exhibit  at  a  rejoicing  on  receipt  of  the  news  of  our 
taking  Fort  Duquesne.     I  looked  grave,  and  said  it  would,  I 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  2G9 

thought,  be  time  enough  to  prepare  for  the  rejoicing  when  we 
knew  we  should  have  occasion  to  rejoice.  They  seem'd  sur- 
pris'd  that  I  did  not  immediately  comply  with  their  proposal. 
"Why  the  d — 1!"  says  one  of  them,  "you  surely  don't  sup- 
pose that  the  fort  will  not  be  taken ? "  "I  don't  know  that  it 
will  not  be  taken,  but  I  know  that  the  events  of  war  are  sub- 
ject to  great  uncertainty."  I  gave  them  the  reasons  of  my 
doubting ;  the  subscription  was  dropt,  and  the  projectors  thereby 
missed  the  mortification  they  would  have  undergone  if  the  fire- 
work had  been  prepared.  Dr.  Bond,  on  some  other  occasion 
afterward,  said  that  he  did  not  like  Franklin's  forebodings. 


THE  DIVERTING  HISTORY  OF  JOHN  GILPIN. 

SHOWmO  HOW    HE   WENT   FARTHER   THAN  HE  INTENDED 
AND  CAME   SAFE   HOME   AGAIN. 

William  Cowper, 

John  Gilpin  was  a  citizen 

Of  credit  and  renown ; 
A  trainband  captain  eke  was  he, 

Of  famous  London  town. 

John  Gilpin's  spouse  said  to  her  dear— 
"  Though  wedded  we  have  been 

These  twice  ten  tedious  years,  yet  we 
No  holiday  have  seen. 

"To-morrow  is  our  wedding-day, 

And  we  will  then  repair 
Unto  the  Bell  at  Edmonton 

All  in  a  chaise  and  pair. 


270      THE  DIVERTING  HISTORY  OF  JOHN   GILPIN. 

"My  sister,  and  my  sister's  child, 
Myself,  and  children  three, 

"Will  fill  the  chaise ;  so  you  must  ride 
On  horseback  after  we." 

He  soon  replied,  "  I  do  admire 

Of  womankind  but  one. 
And  you  are  she,  my  dearest  dear; 

Therefore  it  shall  be  done. 

"  I  am  a  linen-draper  bold, 
As  all  the  world  doth  know ; 

And  my  good  friend,  the  calender, 
Will  lend  his  horse  to  go. " 

Quoth  Mrs.  Gilpin,  "That's  well  said; 

And,  for  that  wine  is  dear. 
We  will  be  furnished  with  our  own. 

Which  is  both  bright  and  clear." 

John  Gilpin  kissed  his  loving  wife ; 

O'er  joyed  was  he  to  find 
That,  though  on  pleasure  she  was  bent. 

She  had  a  frugal  mind. 

The  morning  came,  the  chaise  was  brought. 

But  yet  was  not  allowed 
To  drive  up  to  the  door,  lest  all 

Should  say  that  she  was  proud. 

So  three  doors  off  the  chaise  was  stayed 
Where  they  did  all  get  in  — 

Six  precious  souls,  and  all  agog 
To  dash  through  thick  and  thin. 


THE  REABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  271 

Smack  went  the  whip,  round  went  the  wheels  — 

Were  never  folk  so  glad ; 
The  stones  did  rattle  underneath 

As  if  Cheapside  were  mad. 

John  Gilpin  at  his  horse's  side 

Seized  fast  the  flowing  mane, 
And  up  he  got,  in  haste  to  ride  — 

But  soon  came  down  again : 

For  saddle  tree  scarce  reached  had  he, 

His  journey  to  begin. 
When,  turning  round  his  head,  he  saw 

Three  customers  come  in. 

So  down  he  came :  for  loss  of  time 

Although  it  grieved  him  sore. 
Yet  loss  of  pence,  full  well  he  knew, 

Would  trouble  him  much  more. 

'Twas  long  before  the  customers 

Were  suited  to  their  mind; 
When  Betty,  screaming,  came  downstairs  — 

"  The  wine  is  left  behind !  " 

"  Good  lack !  "  quoth  he  —  "  yet  bring  it  me, 

My  leathern  belt  likewise, 
In  which  I  bear  my  trusty  sword. 

When  I  do  exercise." 

Now  Mistress  Gilpin  (careful  soul!) 

Had  two  stone  bottles  found. 
To  hold  the  liquor  that  she  loved, 

And  keep  it  safe  and  sound. 


272      THE  DIVERTING  HISTOBY  OF  JOHN  GILPIN. 

Each  bottle  had  a  curling  ear, 
Through  which  the  belt  he  drew, 

And  hung  a  bottle  on  each  side, 
To  make  his  balance  true. 

Then  over  all,  that  he  might  be 

Equipped  from  top  to  toe, 
His  long  red  cloak,  well  brushed  and  neat, 

He  manfully  did  throw. 

Now  see  him  mounted  once  again 

Upon  his  nimble  steed, 
EuU  slowly  pacing  o'er  the  stones. 

With  caution  and  good  heed. 

But  finding  soon  a  smoother  road 
Beneath  his  well-shod  feet, 

The  snorting  beast  began  to  trot. 
Which  galled  him  in  his  seat. 

So,  "Fair  and  softly,"  John  he  cried, 
But  John  he  cried  in  vain; 

That  trot  became  a  gallop  soon, 
In  spite  of  curb  and  rein. 

So  stooping  down,  as  needs  he  must 

Who  cannot  sit  upright. 
He  grasped  the  mane  with  both  his  hands. 

And  eke  with  all  his  might. 

His  horse,  who  never  in  that  sort 

Had  handled  been  before. 
What  thing  upon  his  back  had  got 

Did  wonder  more  and  more. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  2T6 

Away  went  Gilpin,  neck  or  nought; 

Away  went  hat  and  wig; 
He  little  dreamt,  when  he  set  out. 

Of  running  such  a  rig. 

The  wind  did  blow  —  the  cloak  did  fly, 

Like  streamer  long  and  gay; 
Till,  loop  and  button  failing  both. 

At  last  it  flew  away. 

Then  might  all  people  well  discern 

The  bottles  he  had  slung  — 
A  bottle  swinging  at  each  side, 

As  hath  been  said  or  sung. 

The  dogs  did  bark,  the  children  screamed, 

Up  flew  the  windows  all ; 
And  ev'ry  soul  cried  out,  "Well  done! " 

As  loud  as  he  could  bawl. 

Away  went  Gilpin  —  who  but  he? 

His  fame  soon  spread  around ;  — 
"  He  carries  weight !  he  rides  a  race ! 

'Tis  for  a  thousand  pound!  " 

And  still,  as  fast  as  he  drew  near, 

'Twas  wonderful  to  view, 
How  in  a  trice  the  turnpike  men 

Their  gates  wide  open  threw. 

And  now,  as  he  went  bowing  down 

His  reeking  head  full  low. 
The  bottles  twain  behind  his  back 

Were  shattered  at  a  blow. 


274      THE  DIVERTING   HISTORY  OF  JOHN  GILPIN. 

Down  ran  the  wine  into  the  road, 

Most  piteous  to  be  seen, 
Which  made  his  horse's  flanks  to  smoke 

As  they  had  basted  been. 

But  still  he  seemed  to  carry  weight. 

With  leathern  girdle  braced; 
For  all  might  see  the  bottle-necks 

Still  dangling  at  his  waist. 

Thus  all  through  merry  Islington 

These  gambols  did  he  play. 
Until  he  came  unto  the  Wash 

Of  Edmonton  so  gay ; 

And  there  he  threw  the  wash  about 

On  both  sides  of  the  way, 
Just  like  unto  a  trundling  mop. 

Or  a  wild  goose  at  play. 

At  Edmonton  his  loving  wife 

From  the  balcony  spied 
Her  tender  husband,  wondering  much 

To  see  how  he  did  ride. 

"  Stop,  stop,  John  Gilpin !    Here's  the  house," 

They  all  aloud  did  cry ; 
"  The  dinner  waits,  and  we  are  tired : " 

SaidGilpin,  —  "SoamI!" 

But  yet  his  horse  was  not  a  whit 

Inclined  to  tarry  there; 
For  why?  —  his  owner  had  a  house 

Full  ten  miles  off,  at  Ware. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  275 

So  like  an  arrow  swift  he  flew, 

Shot  by  an  archer  strong ; 
So  did  he  fly  —  which  brings  me  to 

The  middle  of  my  song. 

Away  went  Gilpin  out  of  breath, 

And  sore  against  his  will. 
Till  at  his  friend  the  calender's 

His  horse  at  last  stood  still. 

The  calender,  amazed  to  see 

His  neighbor  in  such  trim. 
Laid  down  his  pipe,  flew  to  the  gate, 

And  thus  accosted  him : 

"What  news?  what  news?  your  tidings  tell; 

Tell  me  you  must  and  shall  — 
Say  why  bareheaded  you  are  come, 

Or  why  you  come  at  all?  " 

Now  Gilpin  had  a  pleasant  wit, 

And  loved  a  timely  joke ; 
And  thus  unto  the  calender 

In  merry  guise  he  spoke : 

"I  came  because  your  horse  would  come; 

And,  if  I  well  forebode. 
My  hat  and  wig  will  soon  be  here. 

They  are  upon  the  road."  • 

The  calender,  right  glad  to  find 

His  friend  in  merry  pin. 
Returned  him  not  a  single  word, 

But  to  the  house  went  in; 


276      THE  DIVERTING  HISTORY  OF  JOHN   GILPIN. 

Wlience  straight  he  came  with  hat  and  wig : 

A  wig  that  flowed  behind, 
A  hat  not  much  the  worse  for  wear  — 

Each  comely  in  its  kind. 

He  held  them  up,  and  in  his  turn 
Thus  showed  his  ready  wit  — 

"  My  head  is  twice  as  big  as  yours, 
They  therefore  needs  must  fit. 

"  But  let  me  scrape  the  dirt  away 

That  hangs  upon  your  face; 
And  stop  and  eat,  for  well  you  may 

Be  in  a  hungry  case." 

Said  John,  "It  is  my  wedding  day; 

And  all  the  world  would  stare 
If  wife  should  dine  at  Edmonton, 

And  I  should  dine  at  Ware." 

So  turning  to  his  horse,  he  said, 

"  I  am  in  haste  to  dine ; 
'Twas  for  your  pleasure  you  came  here  — 

You  shall  go  back  for  mine." 

Ah,  luckless  speech,  and  bootless  boast ! 

For  which  he  paid  full  dear ; 
For,  while  he  spake,  a  braying  ass 

Did  sing  most  loud  and  clear; 

Whereat  his  horse  did  snort,  as  he 

Had  heard  a  lion  roar. 
And  galloped  off  with  all  his  might, 

As  he  had  done  before. 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  277 

Away  went  Gilpin,  and  away 

Went  Gilpin's  hat  and  wig: 
He  lost  them  sooner  than  at  first, 

For  why?  —  they  were  too  big. 

Now  Mistress  Gilpin,  when  she  saw 

Her  husband  posting  down 
Into  the  country  far  away, 
^  She  pulled  out  half  a  crown; 

And  thus  unto  the  youth  she  said. 

That  drove  them  to  the  Bell, 
"This  shall  be  yours, when  you  bring  back 

My  husband  safe  and  well." 

The  youth  did  ride,  and  soon  did  meet 

John  coming  back  amain  — 
Whom  in  a  trice  he  tried  to  stop, 

By  catching  at  his  rein ; 

But  not  performing  what  he  meant, 

And  gladly  would  have  done, 
The  frighted  steed  he  frighted  more, 

And  made  him  faster  run. 

Away  went  Gilpin,  and  away 

Went  post-boy  at  his  heels. 
The  post-boy's  horse  right  glad  to  miss 

The  lumb'ring  of  the  wheels. 

Six  gentlemen  upon  the  road. 

Thus  seeing  Gilpin  fly. 
With  post-boy  scampering  in  the  rear, 

They  raised  the  hue  and  cry : 


278  THE  SAILOB'8  CONSOLATION. 

" Stop  thief!  stop  thief!  —  a  highwayman! " 
Not  one  of  them  was  mute ; 

And  all  and  each  that  passed  that  way- 
Did  join  in  the  pursuit. 

And  now  the  turnpike  gates  again 

Flew  open  in  short  space ; 
The  toll-men  thinking  as  before, 

That  Gilpin  rode  a  race. 

And  so  he  did,  and  won  it  too, 

For  he  got  first  to  town ; 
Nor  stopped  till  where  he  had  got  up 

He  did  again  get  down. 

Now  let  us  sing,  Long  live  the  king ! 

And  Gilpin,  long  live  he ; 
And  when  he  next  doth  ride  abroad, 

May  I  be  there  to  see! 


THE  SAILOR'S   CONSOLATION. 

Charles  Dihdin, 

One  night  came  on  a  hurricane, 

The  sea  was  mountains  rolling, 
When  Barney  Buntline  turned  his  quid, 

And  said  to  Billy  Bowling : 
"A  strong  nor-wester's  blowing,  Billj 

Hark!  don't  ye  hear  it  roar  now? 
Lord  help  'em,  how  I  pities  all 

Unhappy  folks  on  shore  now ! 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  279 

"  Fool-hardy  chaps  who  live  in  town, 

What  danger  they  are  all  in, 
And  now  are  quaking  in  their  beds, 

For  fear  the  roof  should  fall  in : 
Poor  creatures,  how  they  envies  us, 

And  wishes,  I've  a  notion, 
Tor  our  good  luck,  in  such  a  storm, 

To  be  upon  the  ocean. 

"But  as  for  them  who' re  out  all  day. 

On  business  from  their  houses. 
And  late  at  night  are  coming  home. 

To  cheer  the  babes  and  spouses ; 
While  you  and  I,  Bill,  on  the  deck, 

Are  comfortably  lying, 
My  eyes !  what  tiles  and  chimney-pots 

About  their  heads  are  flying ! 

"And  very  often  have  we  heard 

How  men  are  killed  and  undone, 
By  overturns  of  carriages. 

By  thieves  and  tires  in  London.  t 

We  know  what  risks  all  landsmen  run, 

Prom  noblemen  to  tailors; 
Then,  Bill,  let  us  thank  Providence 

That  you  and  I  are  sailors ! " 


ABOU   BEN  ADHEM. 

Leigh  Hunt. 

Abou  Ben  Adhem  (may  his  tribe  increase!) 
Awoke  one  night  from  a  deep  dream  of  peace, 


280  THE  GLORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  TONGUE. 

And  saw,  within  the  moonlight  in  his  room, 
Making  it  rich,  and  like  a  lily  in  bloom, 
An  angel  writing  in  a  book  of  gold :  — 
Exceeding  peace  had  made  Ben  Adhem  bold. 
And  to  the  presence  in  the  room  he  said, 
"What  writest  thou?  "  —  The  vision  rais'd  its  head, 
And  with  a  look  made  of  all  sweet  accord. 
Answered,  "  The  names  of  those  who  love  the  Lord." 
"And  is  mine  one?"  said  Abou.     "Nay,  not  so," 
Eeplied  the  angel.     Abou  spoke  more  low. 
But  cheerly  still ;  and  said,  "  I  pray  thee  then. 
Write  me  as  one  that  loves  his  fellow-men." 

The  angel  wrote,  and  vanished.     The  next  night 
It  came  again  with  a  great  wakening  light. 
And  showed  the  names  whom  love  of  God  had  bless'd, 
And  lo!     Ben  Adhem' s  name  led  all  the  rest. 


THE  GLORY   OF  THE  ENGLISH  TONGUE. 

From  An  Envoy  to  an  American  Lady. 
Richard,  Lord  Houghton. 

Beyond  the  vague  Atlantic  deep, 
Far  as  the  farthest  prairies  sweep. 
Where  forest-glooms  the  nerve  appal, 
Where  burns  the  radiant  Western  fall, 
Our  duty  lies  on  old  and  young,  — 
With  filial  piety  to  guard. 
As  on  its  greenest  native  sward. 
The  glory  of  the  English  tongue. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  281 

That  ample  speech!     That  subtle  speech! 
Apt  for  the  need  of  all  and  each : 
Strong  to  endure,  yet  prompt  to  bend 
Wherever  human  feelings  tend. 
Preserve  its  force  —  expand  its  powers ; 
And  through  the  maze  of  civic  life, 
In  letters,  commerce,  even  in  strife, 
Forget  not  it  is  yours  and  ours. 


WHERE  LIES   THE  LAND? 

Arthur  Hugh  Clough. 

Where  lies  the  land  to  which  the  ship  would  go? 
Far,  far  ahead,  is  all  her  seamen  know. 
And  where  the  land  she  travels  from?    Away, 
Far,  far  behind,  is  all  that  they  can  say. 

On  sunny  noons  upon  the  deck's  smooth  face. 
Linked  arm  in  arm,  how  pleasant  here  to  pace ; 
Or, o'er  the  stern  reclining,  watch  below 
The  foaming  wake  far  widening  as  we  go. 

On  stormy  nights,  when  wild  northwesters  rave. 
How  proud  a  thing  to  fight  with  wind  and  wave ! 
I'he  dripping  sailor  on  the  reeling  mast 
Exults  to  bear,  and  scorns  to  wish  it  past. 

Where  lies  the  land  to  which  the  ship  would  go? 
Far,  far  ahead,  is  all  her  seamen  know. 
And  where  the  land  she  travels  from?    Away, 
Far,  far  behind,  is  all  that  they  can  say. 


282  CHRISTMAS, 

CHRISTMAS. 

(In  Memoriam,  cvi.) 
Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson, 

Ring  out,  wild  bells,  to  the  wild  sky, 
The  flying  cloud,  the  frosty  light : 
The  year  is  dying  in  the  night ; 

Ring  out,  wild  bells,  and  let  him  die. 

Ring  out  the  old,  ring  in  the  new, 
Ring,  happy  bells,  across  the  snow: 
The  year  is  going,  let  him  go ; 

Ring  out  the  false,  ring  in  the  true. 

Ring  out  the  grief  that  saps  the  mind, 
For  those  that  here  we  see  no  more; 
Ring  out  the  feud  of  rich  and  poor. 

Ring  in  redress  to  all  mankind. 

Ring  out  a  slowly  dying  cause. 
And  ancient  forms  of  party  strife ; 
Ring  in  the  nobler  modes  of  life, 

"With  sweeter  manners,  purer  laws. 

Ring  out  the  want,  the  care,  the  sin. 
The  faithless  coldness  of  the  times ; 
Ring  out,  ring  out  my  mournful  rhymes, 

But  ring  the  fuller  minstrel  in. 

Ring  out  false  pride  in  place  and  blood, 
The  civic  slander  and  the  spite ; 
Ring  in  the  love  of  truth  and  right. 

Ring  in  the  common  love  of  good. 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS. 

Eing  out  old  shapes  of  foul  disease ; 

Eing  out  the  narrowing  lust  of  gold ; 

Eing  out  the  thousand  wars  of  old, 
Eing  in  the  thousand  years  of  peace. 

Eing  in  the  valiant  man  and  free, 
The  larger  heart,  the  kindlier  hand; 
Eing  out  the  darkness  of  the  land, 

Eing  in  the  Christ  that  is  to  be. 


^83 


THE  KITTEN  AND  FALLING  LEAVES. 

William  Wordsworth. 

That  way  look,  my  Infant,  lo ! 

What  a  pretty  baby-show ! 

See  the  Kitten  on  the  wall. 

Sporting  with  the  leaves  that  fall. 

Withered  leaves  —  one  —  two  —  and  three  ■ 

Prom  the  lofty  elder-tree ! 

Through  the  calm  and  frosty  air 

Of  this  morning  bright  and  fair. 

Eddying  round  and  round  they  sink 

Softly,  slowly :  one  might  think. 

From  the  motions  that  are  made. 

Every  little  leaf  conveyed 

Sylph  or  Faery  hither  tending,  — 

To  this  lower  world  descending. 

Each  invisible   and  mute. 

In  his  wavering  parachute. 

—  But  the  Kitten,  how  she  starts. 

Crouches,  stretches,  paws,  and  darts ! 


284  A  PILGRIM, 


First  at  one,  and  then  its  fellow, 
Just  as  light  and  just  as  yellow; 
There  are  many  now  —  now  one  — 
Now  they  stop  and  there  are  none : 
What  intenseness  of  desire 
In  her  upward  eye  of  fire ! 
With  a  tiger-leap  half-way 
Now  she  meets  the  coming  prey, 
Lets  it  go  as  fast,  and  then 
Has  it  in  her  power  again : 
Now  she  works  with  three  or  four, 
Like  an  Indian  conjurer; 
Quick  as  he  in  feats  of  art, 
Far  beyond  in  joy  of  heart. 
Were  her  antics  played  in  the  eye 
Of  a  thousand  standers-by. 
Clapping  hands  with  shout  and  stare, 
What  would  little  Tabby  care 
For  the  plaudits  of  the  crowd? 
Over  happy  to  be  proud. 
Over  wealthy  in  the  treasure 
Of  her  own  exceeding  pleasure ! 
4f        *        *        *        *        * 


A  PILGRIM. 

From  The  Pilgrim's  Progress. 
John  Bunyan. 

Who  would  true  valor  see 
Let  him  come  hither ! 

One  here  will  constant  be, 
Come  wind,  come  weather: 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS,  285 

There's  no  discouragement 
Shall  make  him  once  relent 
His  first  avow'd  intent, 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

Whoso  beset  him  round 

With  dismal  stories, 
Do  but  themselves  confound ; 

His  strength  the  more  is. 
No  lion  can  him  fright. 
He'll  with  a  giant  fight. 
But  he  will  have  a  right. 

To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

Hobgoblin,  nor  foul  fiend, 

Can  daunt  his  spirit; 
He  knows  he  at  the  end 

Shall  Life  inherit. 
Then,  fancies,  fly  away, 
He'll  fear  not  what  men  say, 
He'll  labor,  night  and  day. 

To  be  a  Pilgrim. 


THE  LITTLE   BLACK  BOY. 

William  Blake. 

My  mother  bore  me  in  the  southern  wild. 
And  I  am  black,  but  oh !  my  soul  is  white ; 

White  as  an  angel  is  the  English  child. 
But  I  am  black,  as  if  bereaved  of  light. 


286  THE  LITTLE  BLACK  BOT. 

My  mother  taught  me  underneath  a  tree, 
And  sitting  down  before  the  heat  of  day, 

She  took  me  on  her  lap,  and  kissed  me. 
And,  pointing  to  the  East,  began  to  say :  — 

"  Look  on  the  rising  sun,  —  there  God  does  live, 
And  gives  His  light,  and  gives  His  heat  away ; 

And  flowers,  and  trees,  and  beasts,  and  men  receive 
Comfort  in  morning,  joy  in  the  noon-day. 

"And  we  are  put  on  earth  a  little  space. 
That  we  may  learn  to  bear  the  beams  of  love ; 

And  these  black  bodies  and  this  sun-burnt  face 
Are  but  a  cloud,  and  like  a  shady  grove. 

"For  when  our  souls  have  learned  the  heat  to  bear, 
The  clouds  will  vanish,  we  shall  hear  His  voice. 

Saying,  '  Come  out  from  the  grove,  my  love  and  care. 
And  round  my  golden  tent  like  lambs  rejoice.' " 

Thus  did  my  mother  say,  and  kissed  me ; 

And  thus  I  say  to  little  English  boy,  — 
"  When  I  from  black,  and  he  from  white  cloud  free, 

And  roimd  the  tent  of  God  like  lambs  we  joy, 

"  I'll  shade  him  from  the  heat,  till  he  can  bear 
To  lean  in  joy  upon  our  Father's  knee ; 

And  then  I'll  stand,  and  stroke  his  silver  hair, 
And  be  like  him,  and  he  will  then  love  me." 


THE   HEART    OF   OAK   BOOKS,  287 

THE  TIGER. 

William  Blake. 

Tiger,  tiger,  burning  bright, 
In  the  forests  of  the  night, 
What  immortal  hand  or  eye 
Could  frame  thy  fearful  symmetry  ? 

In  what  distant  deeps  or  skies 
Burnt  the  fire  of  thine  eyes  ? 
On  what  wings  dare  he  aspire  ? 
What  the  hand  dare  seize  the  fire  ? 

And  what  shoulder,  and  what  art. 
Could  twist  the  sinews  of  thy  heart  ? 
And  when  thy  heart  began  to  beat, 
What  dread  hand  and  what  dread  feet  ? 

What  the  hammer  ?  what  the  chain  ? 
In  what  furnace  was  thy  brain  ? 
What  the  anvil  ?  what  dread  grasp 
Dare  its  deadly  terrors  clasp  ? 

When  the  stars  threw  down  their  spears, 
And  water'd  heaven  with  their  tears. 
Did  he  smile  his  work  to  see  ? 
Did  He  who  made  the  lamb  make  thee  ? 

Tiger,  tiger,  burning  bright 
In  the  forests  of  the  night. 
What  immortal  hand  or  eye 
Dare  frame  thy  fearful  symmetry  ? 


288  THE  DOG  AND  THE  WATER-LILT. 

THE  FLY. 

Occasioned  by  a  Fly  drinking  out  of  the  Authob's  Cup. 

William  Oldys, 

Bust,  curious,  thirsty  fly, 
Drink  with  me,  and  drink  as  I; 
Freely  welcome  to  my  cup, 
Couldst  thou  sip,  and  sip  it  up. 
Make  the  most  of  life  you  may; 
Life  is  short,  and  wears  away ! 

Both  alike  are  mine  and  thine, 
Hastening  quick  to  their  decline ; 
Thine's  a  summer ;  mine's  no  more, 
Though  repeated  to  threescore ; 
Threescore  summers,  when  they're  gone, 
Will  appear  as  short  as  one. 


THE  DOG  AND  THE  WATER-LILY. 

William  Couuper. 

The  noon  was  shady,  and  soft  airs 

Swept  Ousels  silent  tide, 
When,  'scap'd  from  literary  cares, 

I  wandered  on  his  side. 

My  spaniel,  prettiest  of  his  race. 

And  high  in  pedigree, 
(Two  nymphs  adorn'd  with  ev'ry  grace 

That  spaniel  found  for  me,) 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  289 

Now  wanton'd  lost  in  flags  and  reeds, 

Now,  starting  into  sight, 
Pursued  the  swallow  o'er  the  meads 

With  scarce  a  slower  flight. 

It  was  the  time  when  Ouse  displayed 

His  lilies   newly  blown; 
Their  beauties  I  intent  surveyed, 

And  one  I  wish'd  my  own. 

With  cane  extended  far  I  sought 

To  steer  it  close  to  land; 
But  still  the  prize,  though  nearly  caught, 

Escap'  d  my  eager  hand. 

Beau  marked  my  unsuccessful  pains 

With  fix'd,  considerate  face, 
And  puzzling  set  his  puppy  brains 

To  comprehend  the  case. 

But  with  a  cherup  clear  and  strong, 

Dispersing  all  his  dream, 
I  thence  withdrew,  and  followed  long 

The  windings  of  the  stream. 

My  ramble  ended,  I  return^; 

Beau,  trotting  far  before, 
The  floating  wreath  again  discerned, 

And  plunging  left  the  shore. 

I  saw  him  with  that  lily  cropp'd 

Impatient  swim  to  meet 
My  quick  approach,  and  soon  he  dropped 

The  treasure  at  my  feet. 


290  TO    A    WATER-FOWL. 

Charm'd  with  the  sight,  "  The  world,"  I  cried, 

"  Shall  hear  of  this  thy  deed ; 
My  dog  shall  mortify  the  pride 

Of  man's  superior  breed ; 

"But  chief  myself  I  will  enjoin, 

Awake  at  duty's  call. 
To  show  a  love  as  prompt  as  thine 

To  Him  who  gives  me  all." 


TO  A  WATER-FOWL. 

William  Cullen  Bryant 

Whither,  midst  falling  dew. 
While  glow  the  heavens  with  the  last  steps  of  day, 
Far,  through  their  rosy  depths,  dost  thou  pursue 

Thy  solitary  way  ? 

Vainly  the  fowler's  eye 
Might  mark  thy  distant  flight  to  do  thee  wrong, 
As,  darkly  painted  on  the  crimson  sky. 

Thy  figure  floats  along. 

Seek'st  thou  the  plashy  brink 
Of  weedy  lake,  or  marge  of  river  wide, 
Or  where  the  rocking  billows  rise  and  sink 

On  the  chafed  ocean-side  ? 

There  is  a  Power  whose  care 
Teaches  thy  way  along  that  pathless  coast — 
The  desert  and  illimitable  air  — 

Lone  wandering,  but  not  lost. 


TEE   HEART    OF    OAK   BOOKS.  291 

All  day  thy  wings  have  fanned, 
At  that  far  height,  the  cold,  thin  atmosphere, 
Yet  stoop  not,  weary,  to  the  welcome  land, 

Though  the  dark  night  is  near. 

And  soon  that  toil  shall  end ; 
Soon  shalt  thou  find  a  summer  home,  and  rest. 
And  scream  among  thy  fellows ;  reeds  shall  bend, 

Soon,  o'er  thy  sheltered  nest. 

Thou'rt  gone,  the  abyss  of  heaven 
Hath  swallowed  up  thy  form ;  yet,  on  my  heart 
Deeply  has  sunk  the  lesson  thou  hast  given. 

And  shall  not  soon  depart. 

He  who,  from  zone  to  zone. 
Guides  through  the  boundless  sky  thy  certain  flight, 
In  the  long  way  that  I  must  tread  alone, 

Will  lead  my  steps  aright. 


THE    LAST  LEAF.i 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 

I  SAW  him  once  before. 
As  he  passed  by  the  door, 

And  again 
The  pavement  stones  resound, 
As  he  totters  o'er  the  ground 

With  his  cane. 

1  This  poem  was  suggested  by  the  appearance  in  one  of  our  streets  of  a 
venerable  relic  of  the  Kevolution,  said  to  be  one  of  the  party  who  threw  the 
tea  overboard  in  Boston  Harbor.  He  was  a  fine  monumental  specimen  in  his 
cocked  hat  and  knee  breeches,  with  his  buckled  shoes  and  his  sturdy  cane. 
The  smile  with  which  I,  as  a  young  man,  greeted  him,  meant  no  disrespect  to 
an  honored  fellow-citizen  whose  costume  was  out  of  date,  but  whose  patriotism 
never  changed  with  years. 


292  THE   LAST   LEAF, 

They  say  that  in  his  prime, 
Ere  the  pruning-knife  of  Time 

Cut  him  down, 
Not  a  better  man  was  found 
By  the  Crier  on  his  round 

Through  the  town. 

But  now  he  walks  the  streets, 
And  he  looks  at  all  he  meets 

Sad  and  wan, 
And  he  shakes  his  feeble  head. 
That  it  seems  as  if  he  said, 

"  They  are  gone." 

The  mossy  marbles  rest 

On  the  lips  that  he  has  presst 

In  their  bloom. 
And  the  names  he  loved  to  hear 
Have  been  carved  for  many  a  year 

On  the  tomb. 

My  grandmamma  has  said  — 
Poor  old  lady,  she  is  dead 

Long  ago  — 
That  he  had  a  Boman  nose, 
And  his  cheek  was  like  a  rose 

In  the  snow. 

But  now  his  nose  is  thin. 
And  it  rests  upon  his  chin 

Like  a  staff. 
And  a  crook  is  in  his  back. 
And  a  melancholy  crack 

In  his  laugh. 


THE   HEABT    OF   OAK   BOOKS.  293 

I  know  it  is  a  sin 
For  me  to  sit  and  grin 

At  him  here ; 
But  the  old  three-cornered  hat, 
And  the  breeches,  and  all  that, 

Are  so  queer ! 

And  if  I  should  live  to  be 
The  last  leaf  upon  the  tree 

In  the  spring, 
Let  them  smile,  as  I  do  now, 
At  the  old  forsaken  bough 

Where  I  cling. 


"AS  AN  OAK  WHOSE  LEAF  FADETH." 
Edward  Fitzgerald. 

As  are  the  leaves  on  the  trees,  even  so  are  man's  generations ; 

This  is  the  truest  verse  ever  a  poet  has  sung : 
Nevertheless  few  hearing  it  hear ;  Hope,  flattering  alway, 

Lives  in  the  bosom  of  all  —  reigns  in  the  blood  of  the  young. 


When  Sir  Walter  Scott  lay  dying,  he  called  for  his  son-in- 
law,  and  while  the  Tweed  murmured  through  the  woods,  and  a 
September  sun  lit  up  the  bowers,  whose  growth  he  had  watched 
so  eagerly,  said  to  him,  "  Be  a  good  man ;  only  that  can  com- 
fort you  when  you  come  to  lie  here  ! ''  "  Be  a  good  man  !  " 
To  that  threadbare  Truism  shrunk  all  that  gorgeous  tapestry  of 
written  and  real  Eomance. 


294  CONCORD  HYMN, 


CONCORD  HYMN. 

Sung  at  the  Completion  of  the  Battle  Monument, 
April  19,  1836. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 

Br  the  rude  bridge  that  arched  the  flood, 
Their  flag  to  April's  breeze  unfurled, 

Here  once  the  embattled  farmers  stood. 
And  fired  the  shot  heard  round  the  world. 

The  foe  long  since  in  silence  slept ; 

Alike  the  conqueror  silent  sleeps ; 
And  Time  the  ruined  bridge  has  swept 

Down  the  dark  stream  which  seaward  creeps. 

On  this  green  bank,  by  this  soft  stream, 

We  set  to-day  a  votive  stone  j 
That  memory  may  their  deed  redeem. 

When,  like  our  sires,  our  sons  are  gone. 

Spirit,  that  made  those  heroes  dare 
To  die,  and  leave  their  children  free, 

Bid  Time  and  Nature  gently  spare 
The  shaft  we  raise  to  them  and  thee. 


The  Monument  at  Concord. 
From  a  photograph. 


NOTES. 


Page  1. —  The  Whistle.  Franklin  was  one  of  three  commissioners 
appointed  by  Congress,  Sept.  26,  1776,  to  take  charge  of  American  affairs 
in  Europe,  and  to  endeavor  to  procure  a  treaty  of  alliance  with  the  Court 
of  France.  Paris  proved  too  public  a  place  for  such  a  lion  as  Dr.  Frank- 
lin had  then  become,  and  he  was  but  too  happy  to  accept  the  invitation  of 
M.  Le  Ray  de  Chaumont,  a  warm,  steadfast,  and  most  useful  friend  of  the 
Americans,  to  accept  a  house  at  Passy,  then  about  three  miles  from  Paris, 
but  included  within  the  city  limits  during  the  Second  Empire.  From 
there,  Nov.  10,  1779,  he  wrote  to  Madame  Brillon  a  letter  containing  this 
famous  anecdote.  "I  am  charmed  with  your  description  of  Paradise, 
and  with  your  plan  of  living  there  ;  and  I  approve  much  of  your  conclu- 
sion, that,  in  the  meantime,  we  should  draw  all  the  good  we  can  from 
this  world.  In  my  opinion  we  might  all  draw  more  good  from  it  than  we 
do,  and  suffer  less  evil,  if  we  would  take  care  not  to  give  too  much  for 
whistles.  For  to  me  it  seems  that  most  of  the  unhappy  people  we  meet 
with  are  become  so  by  neglect  of  that  caution.  You  ask  what  I  mean  ? 
You  love  stories,  and  will  excuse  my  telling  one  of  myself."  (Collected 
Works,  ed.  John  Bigelow,  VI.,  240,  241.) 

Page  2.  —  The  Memoirs  of  Holcroft,  which  Thomas  Moore  regarded 
as  "  amongst  the  most  interesting  specimens  of  autobiography  we  have," 
were  edited  by  William  Hazlitt  in  1810,  the  year  after  his  friend's  death, 
but  were  not  published  until  1816,  in  three  volumes,  12mo.  The  book 
became  scarce,  and  in  1852  "this  most  entertaining  biography  of  a 
remarkable  man"  was  included  in  Longman's  "Traveller's  Library"  in 
a  small  volume  of  about  three  hundred  pages,  from  which  the  extracts  in 
this  book  are  taken.  Holcroft  did  not  begin  the  long-projected  account 
of  his  own  life  until  just  before  his  death.  By  dictating  a  word  at  a 
time,  he  succeeded  in  bringing  it  down  to  his  fifteenth  year.  "When 
the  clearness,  minuteness,  and  vividness  of  what  he  thus  wrote  are  com- 
pared with  the  feeble,  half-convulsed  state  in  which  it  was  written,  it 
will  be  difficult  to  bring  a  stronger  instance  of  the  exertion  of  resolution 

295 


296  NOTES. 

and  firmness  of  mind,  under  such  circumstances."  .  .  .  "Cradled  in 
poverty,  with  no  education  save  what  he  could  pick  up  for  himself,  amid 
incessant  struggles  for  bare  existence,  —  by  turns  a  pedlar,  a  stable  boy,  a 
shoemaker,  and  a  strolling  player,  —  he  yet  contrived  to  surmount  the 
most  untoward  circumstances,  and  at  last  took  his  place,  among  the  most 
distinguished  writers  of  his  age,  as  a  novelist,  a  dramatist,  and  a  transla- 
tor." He  was  "  one  of  the  most  candid,  most  upright,  and  single-meaning 
men,"  Charles  Lamb  ever  knew.     (Works,  ed.  P.  Fitzgerald,  VI.,  78.) 

Page  65.  —  "Even  Caxton,"  says  Wright,  in  his  Introduction  to 
The  History  of  King  Arthur ,  "did  not  think  of  printing  a  book  on  this 
subject  (romances  relating  to  King  Arthur  and  his  knights)  until  he  was 
pressed  to  do  it,  as  he  informs  us,  by  '  many  noble  and  dyvers  gentylmen 
of  thys  royame ' ;  and  then  he  seems  to  have  been  at  a  loss  to  find  any 
book  which  would  suit  his  purpose,  until  he  was  helped  out  of  this  diffi- 
culty by  Sir  Thomas  Malory,  who  had  compiled  a  book  '  oute  of  certeyn 
bookes  of  Frensshe,  and  reduced  it  into  Englysshe.'  All  we  know  of  Sir 
Thomas  Malory  is  that  he  tells  us  himself,  at  the  conclusion  of  his  book, 
that  he  was  a  knight,  and  that  he  completed  his  compilation  in  the  ninth 
year  of  the  reign  of  Edward  IV.,  that  is,  in  the  course  of  the  year  1469 
or  early  in  1470,  or  more  than  fifteen  years  before  Caxton  printed  it." 

Pages  69  and  78.  —  The  legends  of  King  Arthur  took  an  early 
hold  on  Tennyson's  imagination.  In  1842  he  published  Sir  Galahad 
and  Morte  d^  Arthur  with  Sir  Launcelot  and  Queen  Guinevere.  In  1859 
he  put  forth  the  Idylls  of  the  King,  and  ten  years  later  four  new  Idylls, 
in  one  of  which.  The  Passing  of  Arthur^  the  Morte  d^ Arthur  of  1842 
was  woven. 

Page  81.  —  The  full  title  is:  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress  from  this 
World  to  that  which  is  to  come,  delivered  under  the  Similitude  of  a 
Dream,  wherein  is  discovered  the  manner  of  his  Setting  Out,  his  Dan- 
gerous Journey,  and  Safe  Arrival  at  the  Desired  Country,  by  John 
Bunyan." 

In  "  The  Author's  Apology  for  his  Book,"  Bunyan  says :  — 

•'  When  at  the  first  I  took  my  Pen  In  hand 
Thus  for  to  write ;  I  did  not  understand 
That  I  at  all  should  make  a  little  Book 
In  such  a  mode.  ...    I  writing  of  the  Way 
And  Race  of  Saints,  in  this  our  Gospel-day, 
Fell  suddenly  into  an  Allegory 
About  their  Journey,  and  the  way  to  Glory." 

Page  92.  —  The  title  as  a  whole  is :  "  The  Lives  of  the  Noble  Grecians 
and  Romans,  compared  together  by  that  grave  learned  Philosopher  and 


THE  HEART  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  297 

Historiographer,  Plutarch  of  Cheer onea :  translated  out  of  Greeke  into 
French  by  James  Amiot,  Abbot  of  Bellozane,  Bishop  of  Auxerre,  one  of 
the  King's  Privie  Counsell,  and  a  great  amner  of  France,  and  out  of  French 
into  English,  by  Thomas  North."  The  first  edition  was  printed  in  1579. 
A  copy  printed  in  1595,  the  edition  Shakespeare  is  supposed  to  have  used, 
is  in  Harvard  College  Library,  and  is  the  source  of  this  selection. 

Page  128.  —  The  Tales  of  a  Grandfather  were  written  for  the  use  of 
Hugh  Littlejohn  Lockhart.  In  Sir  Walter's  Journal  we  find  entered  the 
13th  of  January,  1829 :  "  Alas,  my  poor  Johnnie  is,  I  fear,  come  to  lay 
his  bones  in  his  native  land.  .  .  .  The  poor  child  is  so  much  bent  on 
coming  to  see  Abbotsford  and  grandpapa  that  it  would  be  cruel  not  to 
comply  with  his  wish  —  and  if  affliction  comes  we  will  bear  it  best 
together.  ...  It  must  be  all  as  God  wills.  Perhaps  his  native  air  may 
be  of  service."  And  in  January,  1832  :  "  Poor  Johnny  Lockhart !  The 
boy  is  gone  whom  we  have  made  so  much  of." 

Page  205. — Bobin  Hood  and  Allin  a  Dale.  "The  ballad  is  first 
found  in  broadside  copies  of  the  latter  half  of  the  seventeenth  century," 
says  Professor  Child  in  his  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads.  '*  The 
story  is  told  of  Scarlock  in  the  life  of  Robin  Hood  in  Sloane  MS.  of  the 
end  of  the  sixteenth  century  :  '  One  day  meeting  him  [Scarlock]  as  he 
walked  solitary  and  lyke  to  a  man  forlome,  because  a  mayd  to  whom  he 
was  affyanced  was  taken  from  [himj  by  the  violence  of  her  frends,  and 
given  to  another,  that  was  auld  and  welthy  ;  whereupon  Robin,  under- 
standyng  when  the  maryage-day  should  be,  came  to  the  church  as  a 
beggar,  and  having  his  company  not  far  off,  which  came  in  so  sone  as 
they  hard  the  sound  of  his  home,  he  "  took  "  the  bryde  perforce  from 
him  that  was  in  hand  to  have  maryed  her,  and  caused  the  priest  to  wed 
her  and  Scarlock  togeyther.'  " 

Page  209. — The  exuberant  mirth  of  Lewis  Carroll's  "dream-child, 
moving  through  a  land  of  wonders  wild  and  new,"  may  be  best  recalled 
by  the  text  that  introduces  and  follows  the  verses  ;  — 

"  I  can't  remember  things  as  I  used  —  and  I  don't  keep  the  same  size 
for  ten  minutes  together." 

"  Can't  remember  what  things  ?  "  said  the  Caterpillar. 

"Well,  I've  tried  to  say,  'How  doth  the  little  busy  bee,'  but  it  all 
came  different,"  Alice  replied  in  a  melancholy  voice. 

"  Repeat,  '  You  are  old,  Father  William  ! '  "  said  the  Caterpillar. 

Alice  folded  her  hands  and  began  :  — 

******* 

"  That  is  not  said  right,"  said  the  Caterpillar. 


298  NOTES. 

"Not  quite  right,  I'm  afraid,"  said  Alice  timidly;  *'some  of  the 
words  have  got  altered." 

*'It  is  wrong  from  beginning  to  end,"  said  the  Caterpillar  decidedly, 
and  there  was  silence  for  some  minutes. 

Page  220. — For  this  poem,  published  in  1845,  there  seems  to  be  no 
historic  basis. 

Page  224.  —  "  To-day,"  wrote  Southey  on  the  11th  of  October,  1811, 
to  his  brother,  Captain  Southey,  "I  resume  the  long-suspended  Life  of 
Nelson,  which  I  shall  bring  on  that  Murray  may  not  lose  the  spring  sale." 

On  December  30,  1812,  he  wrote  again:  "  I  am  such  a  lubber  that  I 
feel  half  ashamed  of  myself  for  being  persuaded  ever  even  to  review  the 
Life  of  Nelson,  much  more  to  write  one.  Had  I  not  been  a  thorough 
lubber,  I  should  have  remembered  half  a  hundred  things  worthy  of  re- 
membrance, which  have  all  been  lost,  because,  though  I  do  know  the 
binnacle  from  the  main-mast,  I  know  little  more :  tackle  and  sheet  and 
tally  and  belay  are  alike  to  me ;  and  if  you  ask  me  about  the  lee-clue 
garnet,  I  can  only  tell  they  are  not  the  same  kind  of  garnets  that  are 
worn  in  necklaces  and  bracelets." 

Page  248.  —  "  Jaffar"  appeared  in  the  New  Monthly  Magazine,  Feb- 
ruary, 1850.     "  Abou  Ben  Adhem,"  on  page  277,  was  published  in  1844. 

"Hunt  was  a  beautiful  old  man,"  writes  Hawthorne.  "In  truth  I 
never  saw  a  finer  countenance,  either  as  to  the  mould  of  features  or  the 
expression,  nor  any  that  showed  the  play  of  feeling  so  perfectly." 

Page  269.  —  "It  is  a  remarkable  fact,"  says  Hayley,  in  the  Life  and 
Posthumous  Writings  of  William  Cowper,  "  that,  full  of  gaiety  and  humor 
as  this  favorite  of  the  public  has  proved  itself  to  be,  it  [John  Gilpin]  was 
really  composed  at  a  time  when  the  spirit  of  the  poet,  as  he  informed  me 
himself,  was  very  deeply  tinged  with  his  depressive  malady.  It  happened 
one  afternoon,  in  that  year  when  his  accomplished  friend  Lady  Austen 
made  a  part  of  his  little  evening  circle,  that  she  observed  him  sinking  into 
increasing  dejection  ;  it  was  her  custom,  on  these  occasions,  to  try  all  the 
resources  of  her  sprightly  powers  for  his  immediate  relief.  She  told  him 
the  story  of  John  Gilpin  (which  had  been  treasured  in  her  memory  from 
her  childhood)  to  dissipate  the  gloom  of  the  passing  hour.  Its  effect  on 
the  fancy  of  Cowper  had  the  air  of  enchantment :  he  informed  her  the 
next  morning  that  convulsions  of  laughter,  brought  on  by  his  recollection 
of  her  story,  had  kept  him  waking  during  the  greatest  part  of  the  night ; 
and  that  he  had  turned  it  into  a  ballad.  So  arose  the  pleasant  story  of 
John  Gilpin." 


THE  HEABT  OF  OAK  BOOKS.  299 

A  somewhat  different  version  of  the  origin  of  the  poem  is  given  by 
Thomas  Wright,  Principal  of  Cowper  School^  Olney.  "Lady  Austen's 
story  made  such  an  impression  on  his  mind  that  at  night  he  could  not 
sleep ;  and  his  thoughts  having  taken  the  form  of  rhyme,  he  sprang 
from  bed,  and  committed  them  to  paper,  and  in  the  morning  brought 
down  to  Mrs.  Unwin  the  crude  outline  of  '  John  Gilpin.'  All  that  day 
and  for  several  days  he  secluded  himself  in  the  greenhouse,  and  went  on 
with  the  task  of  polishing  and  improving  what  he  had  written.  As  he 
filled  his  slips  of  paper  he  sent  them  across  the  Market-place  to  Mr. 
Wilson,  to  the  great  delight  and  merriment  of  that  jocular  barber,  who 
on  several  other  occasions  had  been  favored  with  the  first  sight  of  some 
of  Cowper' s  smaller  poems.  .  .  .  That  the  facts  here  stated  are  accurate 
we  have  the  authority  of  Mrs.  Wilson  ;  moreover,  it  has  always  been  said 
in  Olney  that  '  John  Gilpin '  was  written  in  the  '  greenhouse,'  and  that 
the  first  person  who  saw  the  complete  poem,  and  consequently  the  fore- 
runner of  that  noble  army  who  have  made  merry  over  its  drolleries,  was 
William  Wilson,  the  barber.  'The  story  of  "John  Gilpin,"'  observes 
Hazlitt,  '  has  perhaps  given  as  much  pleasure  to  as  many  people  as  any- 
thing of  the  same  length  that  ever  was  written.'"  Life  of  William 
Coicper,  London,  T.  Fisher  Unwin,  1892,  p.  311. 

Page  283. —  "  Composed  1804;  published  1807;  seen  at  Town-end, 
Grasmere.  The  elder-bush  has  long  since  disappeared ;  it  hung  over 
the  wall  near  the  cottage  :  and  the  kitten  continued  to  leap  up,  catching 
the  leaves  as  here  described.  The  infant  was  Dora  Wordsworth."  — 
Wordsworth^s  note. 

Page  287.  —  Charles  Lamb  writes :  "  I  have  heard  of  his  [Blake's] 
poems,  but  have  never  seen  them.    There  is  one  to  a  tiger,  beginning  :  — 

'  Tiger !  tiger  I  burning  bright,' 
which  is  glorious ! " 

In  the  third  stanza,  Mr.  D.  G.  Rossetti's  reading,  "  What  dread  hand 
formed  thy  dread  feet  ?  "  is  perhaps  more  intelligible,  but  it  is  not  what 
Blake  wrote.  The  text  of  Blake  given  in  this  series  is  an  exact  reprint 
of  the  original  versions  in  Songs  of  Innocence,  1789,  and  JSongs  of  Expe- 
rience, 1794. 

Page  293.  — "When  Sir  Walter  Scott  lay  dying"  is  taken  from 
i'itzgerald's  quaint  and  characteristic  Preface  on  Truisms  ("into  which 
all  truth  must  ultimately  be  dogs-eared"),  prefixed  to  Folonius  :  A 
Collection  of  Wise  Saws  and  Modern  Instances.  London:  William 
Pickering,  1852,  p.  v. 


INDEX  OF  WRITERS. 


WITH   DATES    OF   BIRTH   AND    DEATH. 


Anonymous.  page 

Allin  a  Dale 205 

Arabian  Nights  Entertainment :  the  Story  of  Sinbad  the  Sailor  8 

Bewick  and  Grahame 118 

Chevy  Chase 109 

Sir  Patrick  Spens 104 

Blake,  William  (1757-1827). 

The  Little  Black  Boy 285 

The  Tiger 287 

Browning,  Robert  (1812-1891). 

Home  Thoughts  from  the  Sea 244 

How  they  brought  the  Good  News  from  Ghent  to  Aix 220 

Incident  of  the  French  Camp 216 

Bryant,  William  Cullen  (1794-1878). 

To  a  Water-Fowl 290 

BuNYAN,  John  (1628-1688). 

A  Pilgrim 284 

Vanity  Fair 81 

Burns,  Robert  (1759-1796). 

Scots,  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled 127 

Campbell,  Thomas  (1777-1844). 

Lord  Ullin's  Daughter 218 

Carroll,  Lewis  (Charles  Lutwidge  Dodgson,  1832-1890). 

You  are  Old,  Father  William 209 

301 


302  INDEX  OF  WRITERS. 

Clough,  Arthur  Hugh  (1819-1861).  pace 

Columbus 245 

Where  lies  the  Land  ? 281 

CowPER,  William  (1731-1800). 

The  Diverting  History  of  John  Gilpin 269 

The  Dog  and  the  Water-Lily 288 

DiBDiN,  Charles  (1745-1814). 

The  Sailor's  Consolation 278 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo  (1803-1882). 

Concord  Hymn 294 

Fitzgerald,  Edward  (1809-1883). 

"  As  an  Oak  whose  Leaf  fadeth  " 293 

"  When  Sir  Walter  Scott  lay  dying  " 293 

Franklin,  Benjamin  (1706-1790). 

Parts  of  the  Autobiography  of 249 

The  Whistle 1 

Hemans,  Felicia  Browne  (1793-1835). 

The  Landing  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  in  New  England 223 

Holcroft,  Thomas  (1745-1809). 

Incidents  in  Early  Life  of  Thomas  Holcroft. 2 

Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell  (1809-1895). 

The  Last  Leaf 291 

Houghton,  Richard,  Lord  (1809-1885). 

The  Glory  of  the  English  Tongue 280 

Hunt,  Leigh  (1784-1859). 

Abou  Ben  Adhem 279 

Jaff^r 248 

Kipling,  Rudyard  (1863-). 

The  Ballad  of  East  and  West 211 

Lowell,  James  Russell  (1819-1891).   • 

Yussouf 7 

Malory,  Thomas  (about  1430-). 

The  Death  of  King  Arthur 64 

North,  Thomas  (between  1525  and  1605). 

The  Death  of  Caesar 92 


INDEX  OF  WBITEBS.  303 

Oldys,  William  (1696-1761).  pagb 

The  Fly 288 

Scott,  Walter  (1771-1832). 

Chapters  from  Tales  of  a  Grandfather 128 

Helvellyn 246 

Shakespeare,  William  (1564-1616). 

Will  you  buy  any  Tape  ? 92 

Youth  and  Age 210 

Southey,  Egbert  (1774-1843). 

The  Battle  of  Trafalgar  and  the  Death  of  Nelson 224 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  Lord  (1810-1892). 

Christmas 282 

The  Passing  of  Arthur , 68 

Sir  Galahad 78 

Turner,  Charles  Tennyson  (1808-1879). 

Hero  and  Leander 218 

Wordsworth,  William  (1770-1850). 

The  Kitten  and  Falling  Leaves 283 


REUSED   AND   ILLUSTRATED 


The  Heart  of  Oak  Books 

A  Collection  of  Traditional  Rhymes  and  Stories  for 
Children,  and  of  Masterpieces  of  Poetry  and  Prose 
for  Use  at  Home  and  at  School,  chosen  with  special 
reference  to  the  cultivation  of  the  imagination  and 
the  development  of  a  taste  for  good  reading. 

EDITED    BY 

CHARLES   ELIOT   NORTON 


Book  I.  Rhymes,  Jingles  and  Fables.  For  first  reader  classes.  Illustrated 
by  Frank  T.  Merrill.     128  pages.    25  cents. 

Book  n.  Fables  and  Nursery  Tales.  For  second  reader  classes.  Illustrated 
by  Frank  T.  Merrill.     176  pages.    35  cents. 

Book  HI.  Fairy  Tales,  Ballads  and  Poems.  For  third  reader  classes.  With 
illustrations  after  George  Cruikshank  and  Sir  John  Tenniel.  184 
pages.    40  cents. 

Book  rV.  Fairy  Stories  and  Classic  Tales  of  Adventure.  For  fourth  reader 
grades.  With  illustrations  after  J.  M.  W.  Turner,  Richard  Doyle, 
John  Flaxman,  and  E.  Burne-Jones.    248  pages.    45  cents. 

Book  V.  Masterpieces  of  Literature.  For  fifth  reader  grades.  With  illustra- 
tions after  G.  F.  Watts,  Sir  John  Tenniel,  Fred  Barnard,  W.  C. 
Stanfield,  Ernest  Fosbery,  and  from  photographs.  318  pages- 
50  cents. 

Book  VI.  Masterpieces  of  Literature.  With  illustrations  after  Horace  Vernet, 
A.  Symington,  J.  Wells,  Mrs.  E.  B.  Thompson,  and  from  photo- 
graphs.   376  pages.    55  cents. 

Book  Vn.  Masterpieces  of  Literature.  With  illustrations  after  J.  M.  W.  Tur- 
ner, E.  Dayes,  Sir  George  Beaumont,  and  from  photographs.  382 
pages.    60  cents. 


D.  C.  HEATH   y  CO.,  Publishers 

BOSTON  NEW   YORK  CHICAGO  LONDON 


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DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 

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